


little messed up but i'm not anymore

by happynotdignified



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Percy Weasley, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Healing, I mean if you like me agree percy and oliver are canon, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Percy Weasley Needs a Hug, Percy Weasley-centric, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Oliver Wood, but they have a complicated relationship with Percy, established relationship eventually, i love the weasleys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happynotdignified/pseuds/happynotdignified
Summary: “This is very different to how we celebrated the last Quidditch match I watched,” blurted Percy before his brain could catch up with his mouth.Okay, so this was happening.Oliver was staring at him like a confused fish, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Percy stared back; why had he thought this was a good idea?Eventually Oliver broke the silence, “I thought … I thought we didn’t talk about that.” Percy hated how small his voice sounded.-or-After Percy walks out of the Burrow during Christmas, 1996, he is left feeling the worst he has ever felt. A chance encounter with Oliver turns his life around over the months and years that follow.(Canon compliant except Percy/Oliver)
Relationships: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 148
Kudos: 312





	1. The Burrow, December 1996

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is sort of a prologue to the main events with Oliver - a catalyst if you will!
> 
> Title is from 'The Cure' by Little Mix because I love a good lyric for a title!

_December 1996_

Despite his numerous public and private protests that he did not want to reconcile with his family, Percy would be lying if he said he had never imagined how it would go. He was loathe to admit to anyone that there had been nights when he sat alone in his small London flat wishing that his mother would come to the door again, asking him home for dinner. Not to mention the days in the Ministry where he had to mentally stop himself marching down to his father’s office and on more than one occasion in Diagon Alley, he had Apparated away after spending time staring at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes convincing himself to go in.

Knowledge was power and knowledge was something that Percy had always believed that he had – that he had taken pride in having. There was no evidence that You-Know-Who had returned – therefore he would not believe it off the hearsay of Harry Potter. The rest of his siblings and parents disagreed. And then Percy had seen You-Know-Who himself in the Ministry the previous summer. Suddenly, everything he thought he knew was turned on its head. The power he thought he held due to his superior knowledge was gone. Harry had been right. Percy’s father had been right. He had been wrong.

It is one thing to admit to yourself that you are wrong; it is another entirely to go crawling back to the people who you ranted and raged at their inability to see your point of view.

Therefore, it was with great reluctance and regret that Percy had agreed to accompany the Minister to his family home. Percy was clever; he knew the Minister wanted to speak to Harry and was simply using him. He found he did not overly care about that. What he did care about was the reaction his family were going to have at seeing him.

“Weasley, are we nearly there?” barked the Minister from behind where Percy was marching with purpose up the hill to The Burrow from the Apparition point.

“Yes, sir,” he retorted, not bothering to hide his annoyance. The Minister was well aware he did not want to be here – why put up any pretences?

“What are your parents’ names again, my boy?”

“Molly and Arthur,” Percy shot back.

Suddenly there was the snow-coated gate, and with a breath, Percy stared up at his childhood home for the first time in eighteen months. A lot had changed and yet nothing had. With renewed purpose, he walked up the path towards the back door, the Minister limping along behind him.

He swung the door open quickly, not wanting to overthink anything and was met with a frozen tableau of a Christmas dinner. The silence was painful. Percy wanted to speak but he found his voice caught in his throat as he scanned the kitchen. Ron’s look of bemused shock, Bill offering a tentative smile, Ginny looking far more grown up than he remembered, identical blank faces on the twins and a cold stare from his father. Percy quickly sought his mother’s face.

"Happy Christmas, Mother,” he managed, in what he hoped was a polite voice.

"Oh, _Percy_!" said his mother, and she threw herself into his arms. Percy instinctively hugged her back, although stiffly – his brain supplied that it had been months, if not longer, since he had such human contact.

Scrimgeour interrupted, almost to Percy’s relief, "You must forgive this intrusion," he said, and Percy’s mother turned to face the Minister, wiping tears away. "Percy and I were in the vicinity — working, you know — and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."

Percy chanced a glance across the table and saw some of the more shocked looks turn to suspicion. He averted his eyes, not knowing what else to say or do. It was clear he had made his mother’s day but he supposed he could not expect a warm welcome from his younger siblings who were teenagers after all – not the most forgiving of people.

"Please, come in, sit down, Minister!" fluttered his mother, straightening her bright witch’s hat. "Have a little purkey, or some tooding … I mean —"

"No, no, my dear Molly," said Scrimgeour. Percy noted with relief that at least he had got the name right. "I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't wanted to see you all so badly …"

Percy withheld a grimace as his mum reached up to kiss his cheek, ‘Oh, Perce!”

"… we've only looked in for five minutes, so I'll have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. No, no, I assure you I don't want to butt in! Well, if anybody cared to show me your charming garden … ah, that young man's finished, why doesn't he take a stroll with me?"

This time Percy couldn’t stop the grimace as he physically felt the atmosphere change in the room when the Minister indicated Harry. Suspicion turned to outright hostility on the twins and Ginny’s face. He noticed the tall blonde woman indicate her own empty plate to Bill who subtly shook his head.

"Yeah, all right," said Harry into the silence.

"It's fine," he said quietly, as he passed … Professor Lupin (what was he doing here?) who had half risen from his chair. "Fine," he added, as Percy’s father opened his mouth to perhaps protest.

"Wonderful!" said Scrimgeour, standing back to let Harry pass through the door ahead of him. "We'll just take a turn around the garden, and Percy and I'll be off. Carry on, everyone!"

Percy watched them go with trepidation – why had he agreed to this?

There was another prolonged silence as Percy stared at his family and they stared back.

Finally, the blonde woman stood up and smiled warmly at him – now she was facing him straight on, he recognised her as Fleur Delcaour from the Triwizard Tournament. This was even more confusing than Professor Lupin.

“Eet ees so lovely to meet you, Percy, Bill ‘as told me so much about you,” she smiled putting her hand out.

Percy shook it robotically, noticing the ring shining on her finger – what exactly had he missed here? She smiled again but seeing he wasn’t about to respond, sat back down again.

“Fleur and Bill are engaged,” his mother said, filling the silence. Was it just Percy or did she manage to make that apparently happy news sound like a death sentence? Yep, he definitely should not have come.

“Which I am sure Percy knows from reading your letters,” George raises an eyebrow.

Their mum shot him a tearful glare, “George! Your brother has come home!”

“Has he though?” Fred cocked his head, “because from where I am sitting, it looks like you have interrupted our dinner so that the Minster can manipulate Harry in some way.”

Percy said nothing – his brother wasn’t wrong.

“Hermione,” said Lupin quickly, “didn’t you want to show me that new book on Defence you got for Christmas?”

Percy looked sharply at his old Professor who was edging out of the room and then to Hermione Granger who he hadn’t noticed until this point – at least someone in the room was being tactful. Ron looked peeved as Hermione followed Lupin into the sitting room.

“And now you’re scaring more guests away,” said George. “I do love the Christmas spirit you have brought with you. Really adds to the joy of the day!”

Their mother let out a sob at Percy’s side.

“George, lay off,” Bill tried, always a peacekeeper when they were younger – Percy was momentarily touched he would still try the same.

“Give over Bill, he clearly doesn’t want to be here,” Fred scoffed.

Percy was stung; he did want to be here. Just not like this. He wanted to be here as if he had never left. He wanted to have been here to see how Fleur and Bill’s relationship had developed. He wanted to have been here to see Ron and Ginny grow up. He wanted to have been here to congratulate the twins on their business ventures. Regret was a terrible emotion.

“Of course, he does, don’t you Percy?” his mother looked up at him. “Shall I get you something to eat?”

“I –“ Percy desperately wanted to say ‘yes’ but found the word wouldn’t form. Mother burst into a fresh round of tears.

“How _dare_ you!” a furious voice pulled his focus back to the table and he was surprised and horrified to see it was Ginny. “How dare you make Mum cry on Christmas! Like she hasn’t cried over you enough for the past year and a half you _absolute_ prat! What do you think you’re playing at? Bringing the Minister here to bother Harry – your lot have already made his life hell last year! Not to mention our lives! You can’t even show up to a family Christmas without it being connected to your damn career!”

Percy hated that he felt tears prick his eyes as he looked back at his sister who had always looked up to him, now looking at him with anger.

Suddenly, he couldn’t see her anymore as something white splattered over his glasses. He whipped them off to discover it was mashed parsnip and saw both the twins and Ginny holding guilty looking spoons.

“I’ll be heading off now,” he ground out. “Goodbye, Mother!”

And with that, he stormed out the back door before anyone could stop him – not that he imagined anyone would, except perhaps his mum. He saw the Minister and Harry in a tense looking conversation and decided he didn’t care about his reputation for once and stormed through the gate, promptly Apparating without his boss.


	2. The Leaky Cauldron, December 1996

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Oliver enters the chat*

* * *

_December 1996_

Muggle London was quiet on Christmas Day and not a pub could be found that was open. Percy was not one for drinking but at this moment and time, nothing sounded better than getting drunk enough that the afternoon was permanently wiped from his memory. With a sigh, he realised it was going to have to be a wizard pub and started walking through the sleet and slush to The Leaky Cauldron.

He didn’t know who he was most angry with – Ginny? Probably not. With Ginny, all he could feel was heartache. His little sister who used to come to him to help her with her scrapped knees and later, her homework in Hogwarts. Ginny who he had nearly lost when he was only seventeen. There was no anger there, only hurt.

Ron and Bill? Again, they could have done something other than more or less watch the showdown happen with barely concealed annoyance and frustration. At least Bill had tried to keep the peace and he couldn’t blame Ron for not wanting to get involved. He had never been as outspoken as the twins.

Mother? Definitely not. Percy decided not to think of her as her tears and Ginny’s words about her were heart-breaking in themselves.

Father? Who had sat there stone-faced and said not a word? Father who had accused him of being a spy for the Ministry instead of congratulating him on a job opportunity. Percy groaned; he loved his Dad and he knew now that he was right about Harry. But the accusations still stung over a year later.

The twins – now there was a good place to lay anger. They hadn’t even given him a chance to explain before throwing out accusations and jibes. And the mashed parsnip? An infantile way to deal with one’s problems. How much had changed and yet how little when it came to them.

And then of course there was another person he could be angry with. Himself.

If he had not been blinded by pride, he could have gone back home a lot earlier – hell, maybe even have never left! Then there would not be eighteen months of not knowing Ginny, he might not have written that terrible letter to Ron about Harry, the twins might still tease him but at least it would be good-natured, Fleur might not have had to introduce herself after already being engaged to his brother. And his parents might be able to look at him without crying or indifference.

On that note of self-hatred, Percy entered the Leaky Cauldron and went straight to the end of the bar.

“Two shots of Firewhiskey and a beer,” he requested hoping that would be enough to quickly get himself drunk.

Tom eyed him warily, “what’s a young man like you doing alone on Christmas.”

“If you don’t mind, I have come here to wallow by myself,” he retorted shortly, not in the mood for being interrogated by someone else.

The barman shrugged and poured the drinks.

It was some time and another beer later when Percy was lifted from his misery but the sound of a far too cheerful voice.

“ _Percy_? Is that you? Percy Weasley?”

Percy risked a glance to where the sound came from and immediately groaned, putting his head down on the bar. Of all the people to find him in this state. Could this day be filled with even more regret?

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Yes, it appeared that Merlin and the universe had conspired to make this the worst Christmas ever.

“If I say no, I feel you will do it anyway, Wood,” he muttered, looking up blearily at the strikingly handsome face of Oliver Word, keeper of Puddlemere United, ex-roommate and embarrassingly, number one feature of many of Percy’s dreams.

“C’mon now Perce,” Oliver chuckled. “Think we’re well on to a first name basis by now.”

Percy looked away, trying to clear the alcohol from his head before he said something he didn’t mean – why had he drunk so much again?

“Sorry, Perce … I can call you Weasley if you’d prefer … just, y’know, thought we were past that,” Oliver suddenly sounded far less sure of himself and oh no, that would not do.

“It’s fine Oliver,” he gave a half-hearted smile, pushing down memories that he had tried to bury. “What brings you to London by yourself on Christmas?”

Oliver’s face perked up at his change in tone, “who says I’m by myself?”

“Well I assume that goblin in the corner is not with you,” Percy reasoned pointing to the creature in question, “and other than that, it’s me and Tom here.”

“Always so logical,” Oliver said. Was Percy imagining the warm, wistful tone? It was probably the alcohol. “Nah, I was visiting my Gran in St Mungo’s and was stopping to get my stuff before heading back home for dinner.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Percy “I hope she’s alright?”

Oliver waved him off, “just a spot of dragon pox but she’s made of sturdy stuff. Take more than that to keep a Scot down for long.”

“I’m glad,” Percy nodded. “Where’s home at the minute?”

“I’ve a flat in Dorset that I share with two lads from the team, but I’ll be going home to get some of my ma’s cooking tonight!”

To his own horror, Percy felt his eyes begin to water. Oliver looked as shocked as he felt.

“I’m sorry,” Percy bit his lip, trying to ebb the tears. “I’ll be okay.”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, Perce,” Oliver sighed, “c’mon, I’ve a room upstairs that I was just about to check out of. Better to cry up there without an audience.”

Percy tried to protest but Oliver slipped his hand into his and dragged him towards the stairs. Percy should have known better than to think his resistance would be anything but futile with Oliver’s warm hand enfolding his own.

Upstairs, Oliver gently placed Percy on a sofa before sitting next to him and then let go of his hand.

“So, what happened?”

“How can you even want to help me?” Percy said through dry heaves.

Oliver took a minute to look a little pained, “Perce, I’ll not pretend you didn’t hurt me but for what it’s worth, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to just walk past you. Let alone leave you crying in a bar on Christmas Day.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” Percy sobbed again. “I ruin _everything_.”

There was a pause.

“Is this about your family?”

Percy looked up sharply, “what do you mean?”

Oliver looked slightly guilty, “Fred and George came to a match last year, ‘bout April time, I’d say? I got them passes to meet the team, played up what amazing beaters they were. ‘Course they had a lot to say about how they would have been world class players ‘cept for their love of pranks. By the way, their shop is amazing –“

“You’re rambling, Oliver,” Percy interrupted.

“Sorry, anyway, I asked after you – you stopped writing to me” Oliver sent him a frown. “They suddenly looked as furious as I’d ever seen them – and that’s saying something, I used to have them up at 5am – anyway, they told me you and your dad had fallen out over You-Know-Who returning. Obviously, it was their side of the story, so I took it with a pinch of salt – I know how they’ve always been with you. I was worried though, you’d been alone since the summer – about when you stopped replying to my letters. Last I had heard was you were all excited about your new job and then radio silence. After a year of letters, I suddenly missed Hermes you should know! I popped into the twins’ shop back in October there and they again told me they hadn’t heard from you in over a year.”

“Great, now _you_ must think I am the worst person to ever walk this earth as well,” Percy held his breath and closed his eyes – it was one thing to say it, another to hear someone agree.

“No Percy, of course not! I mean, I take it you know you were wrong about You-Know-Who but I don’t blame you – we were only, what., nineteen? Not exactly far-fetched to believe what the Ministry says. Obviously now we know that not everyone there is as upstanding as you’d like to think – not you of course – and I am sure that’s hard enough to deal with. I could never think you’re the worst person. Hell, you’re not even a _bad_ person, let alone the worst!”

Oliver sounded so earnest, Percy shot him a tearful glance.

“I left my family because they chose to believe the words of a boy – who until that point I had got on well with – over the corrupt politicians I work with and still, six months after realising I was wrong, I have not reconciled with them. How are you okay with that?” Percy asked, bewildered – clearly his family thought this was insane, but Oliver didn’t seem to. Percy raised a cautious eyebrow.

“I think we all know it is hard to admit we are wrong about something,” Oliver gave a half-smile that did not reach his eyes. Percy had a sudden image of a slightly younger Oliver, his expression crushed as he tried to convince Percy that he (Oliver) was right about something completely different. Percy did not like to dwell on those memories though and quickly changed the topic.

“I went home earlier. I brought the Minister with me – he wanted to talk to Harry. Mum cried and Dad would barely look at me. Not to mention the twins and Ginny. And do you know Bill? He’s engaged now. I didn’t even know he was dating someone, and I found out they are engaged! I’ve missed so much Oliver, and you are the last person I should be looking comfort from,” Percy put his head in his hands trying not to cry again.

He felt an arm go over his shoulder and felt a warm shiver run through him.

“That was brave, Perce. Going back can’t have been easy.”

“No, it wasn’t brave.”

“There are different types of bravery,” Oliver reasoned.

Percy let out a wet laugh, “do not start talking about Gryffindor pride right now, Ol.”

“Just like old times, eh? You, me and Gryffindor pride! Wasn’t a bad seven years, was it?”

Percy shook his head, looking up, “no, it was actually the happiest of my life to be honest. Sometimes it seems like it’s been a downward spiral ever since.”

“It can go up again,” Oliver replied catching Percy’s eye. “It won’t always be like this. Sure, your siblings might seem angry – and really you have every right to feel angry too – but they probably just miss you … I know I do.”

“I’m sorry I stopped writing,” Percy said sincerely. “I just … I couldn’t bear to have you tell me I was wrong as well – it was bad enough the argument I had with Dad. I thought it would be easier to just stop talking.”

“Well, you’re wrong and right,” Oliver muttered. “I’ve believed Harry since I heard it – I didn’t want to but I did – so I understand why you didn’t. It can be hard to accept the truth sometimes.”

Percy felt a wall of shame hit him that was nothing to do with You-Know-Who. He needed this conversation to stop.

“I still wish you had written though,” Oliver continued. “I would have kept in contact, even if we disagreed. Merlin knows we didn’t agree on much at Hogwarts but we still managed to be mates.”

Percy stood up sharply.

“Thank you, Oliver,” he began, assessing his exit. “I have just remembered you said you were going home. I don’t want to keep you from your own family just because I can’t be with mine.”

Oliver cocked his head, taking the sudden topic change in his stride, “come with me?”

Percy blanched, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please,” Oliver asked. “I literally will not enjoy myself if I am imagining you wallowing in a dingy pub in self pity whilst I gorge myself on Yorkshire puddings and turkey. Either you come with me or I stay with you.”

Percy could think of a million reasons why neither of those were good options but his willpower when it came to Oliver was always more flexible.

“Your parents will think you’ve brought the local drunk home,” he tried as a last resort indicating his still bloodshot eyes and the obvious smell of alcohol he was emitting.

Oliver produced a packet of Muggle mints and his wand, “we can fix you up a bit. Please? Think of the stuffing!”

“Does you mum cook mashed parsnips?”

Oliver looked amused, “she normally roasts them. Do you have an aversion to mashed parsnips?”

“Not usually,” Percy muttered, “a lot can change when they are thrown at you though.”

Oliver did not hide his shock or annoyance well, but Percy was grateful when he didn’t comment.

“Okay, as long as it’s not an intrusion, you have no idea how much I would love to spend Christmas with you.”

“I think I have some idea,” Oliver smiled softly as he led the way back downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I really enjoyed all your comments on chapter 1!  
> I have this whole plan about where I want this to go and currently I have seven chapters drafted but it may increase, who knows!


	3. Hogsmede, March 1997

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, full disclosure I am not as happy with this chapter as the next one. I feel like it is filling time? Also fyi this fic is mainly centred on Oliver and Percy's relationship developing as well as him reuniting with the Weasleys so there is a lot of mentioning of them. I am not trying to make them look bad in any way, I sincerely love each and every Weasley! But no character is perfect (that would be boring) so different people's faults and mistakes are explored. Hope that makes sense!

* * *

_March 1997_

It had been almost two years since Percy had been in Hogsmede when he had stayed in the Three Broomsticks during the Triwizard Tournament but he was pleased to see how unchanged the village was; Diagon Alley had not been the same since Ollivander’s had been ransacked. Thankfully Oliver hadn’t suggested London to meet because Percy needed a break from the city.

Percy started the familiar walk from his Apparation point, through the streets, to the Three Broomsticks. He noted as he walked that the village was, however, unusually quiet for a Saturday that would normally have been a Hogsmede trip for the Hogwarts pupils. That had been quite the fiasco at the Ministry back in October after a seventh year pupil had been cursed by a necklace causing all visits to the village to cease. A friend in the Auror department had informed Percy the girl was still in St Mungo’s. Percy shuddered at the thought and sent a glance up towards the castle that loomed against the skyline. It was as close as he had been to Ron and Ginny since Christmas and he briefly wondered what they would do if he asked Dumbledore to see them; perhaps without the twins, things might be different.

He sighed turning back to the entryway of the Three Broomsticks and pushed through the door into the warmth. Percy quickly scanned the room and grinned when he saw Oliver sitting in a booth in the corner by the fire. 

It had been nearly three months since the disastrous Christmas at the Burrow, followed by a slightly awkward, yet enjoyable meal with Oliver and his parents. Percy had realised as he sat around their table just how alone he had been over the past year or more and whilst he still did not feel he could face the Burrow again after the ‘mashed parsnip incident’, he wanted to try socialising more. Therefore, he had decided to write to Oliver at the New Year and was delighted to get a response back with Hermes that very same day. Percy was so busy with the Ministry and Oliver with training that they hadn’t seen each other since but the letters had been numerous over the weeks, and Percy finally felt he had a proper connection with another human again. It was more of a relief than he was willing to admit.

“How are you Oliver?” Percy asked with a small smile.

Oliver jumped up and wrapped Percy in a bear hug, “grand Perce, so good to see you again!”

“Well, who am I to ignore the summons of a national Quidditch star.”

Oliver snorted in laughter, “I don’t know why people think you don’t have a sense of humour”

Percy grimaced as Fred and George’s faces entered his mind, unbidden.

“Have you ordered yet?” he asked.

“Nah, was waiting for you,” Oliver smiled and then caught the attention of a waiter so they could order.

“So, how’s training been?” Percy questioned once they had placed their order for lunch.

“Amazing!” Oliver gushed, “I suggested some of those new drills – y’know I told you about them in a letter – anyway, I suggested them to the coach and he’s dead keen. Got me and the Chasers to use to them and so far, so good. Think I’ve impressed him – hopefully at least.”

Percy nodded, he had always appreciated Oliver’s drive to succeed – it paralleled his own after all, “that’s fantastic, Ol! Surely, they’ll have to call you up to the main team soon. They need a breath of new ideas.”

Oliver nodded keenly, “I’m really hopeful! Drew, one of the Beaters, hinted to me that the main Keeper may be thinking of stepping down, says she doesn’t feel safe. Don’t blame her like, she’s got kids – one has just started Hogwarts, must be scary. So, I feel bad for her but if it gives me a chance to play on the main team, I’ll be over the moon.”

“You must let me know when that happens,” Percy grinned, knowing Oliver would achieve this, “And for the record, it’s not just because she’s stepping down, but because you’re extremely talented too. I’ll come and watch the match when you’re called up.”

“Would you really?”

“Of course!”

Oliver’s eyes lit up. Percy tried not to read into that. Thankfully at this moment, their food arrived and Percy dug into his stew.

“So,” Oliver before swallowing a mouthful, “whilst it is amazing to see you and discuss Quidditch. There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

“Okay, now I’m nervous,” Percy replied, his stomach churning.

Oliver reached out and patted his hand comfortingly, “don’t be! It’s about something you wrote in a letter and something you said back at Christmas. You said you ‘left’ your family last summer.”

Percy kept eating, avoiding eye contact and trying to quell his stomach that had twisted pleasantly when Oliver had reached for his hand.

“And well,” Oliver ploughed on, “I want you to stop saying that.”

“ _What_?”

“I want you to stop saying you ‘left your family’,” Oliver replied calmly.

Percy stared at him in complete confusion, “but I did.”

“They put you in a position where you didn’t feel you could stay. So yes, whilst you did physically leave the house, you say it in a way which makes me think you feel fully responsible. And I want you to realise you aren’t. Like yeah you are a bit responsible, but it takes two to tango and all that.”

Percy didn’t know what to say; Oliver had hit the nail on the head – he did blame himself in a way and did feel guilty about not going back.

“You were proud of your new job, yes?”

Percy nodded.

“And your family weren’t?”

“I haven’t actually told you what they said,” Percy sighed. “I don’t want to think badly of them because no matter what, they’re still my family.”

“Only tell me if you think it would help,” Oliver smiled softly.

Percy deliberated; his feelings around his family were messy and one of the only problems he had not been able to solve. Perhaps in this case, two brains might be better than one.

“My Dad told me the only reason I got the job was so that Fudge could spy on our family because of how close we are to Harry. I was furious if I am honest, I’ve worked hard and I thought the Crouch fiasco had ruined my career. It was an unmissable opportunity and I thought they would be proud of me. I told Mum and Ginny first and well Mum was proud and Ginny was only thirteen so she was just happy that I was happy. But then Dad got home from work and started on me. Ron and Ginny didn’t witness the fight but the twins did and they threw their two knuts in with Dad.”

Oliver let out a low whistle, “Merlin Perce, that’s rough. I can’t imagine getting my dream job – especially at such a young age – and then having my Dad more or less tell me I hadn’t earned it.”

“The most frustrating and demoralising part is that he was right,” Percy replied, “of course the Minister is not going to hire a nineteen year old without a political motive – he asked after my family quite often but as soon as I was estranged from them, he stopped. Then Scrimgeour wanted to talk to Harry so he made me go with him to The Burrow. And there I was, standing in the very room in which my Dad had told me they would use me to spy on them with the Minister himself. You couldn’t have written it.”

“Look Percy, as you say you were nineteen, you got a great job opportunity, we both know what it is to have aspirations and goals – why would you not have been proud of yourself?” Oliver reasoned. “Yeah, your Dad may have been right but then again, maybe Fudge did want to hire you and it was only Scrimgeour who had ulterior motives?”

“It doesn’t matter either way,” Percy sighed. “They won’t forgive me after the Christmas incident.”

Oliver let out a frustrated sigh, “they don’t have to forgive you – yes, you may have made a mistake or two – who hasn’t – but you’ve not done anything wrong on _purpose_!”

“They feel differently,” Percy muttered. “I think if it was just Dad I might find it easier to talk to him. But with Fred and George…”

“Percy, look at me,” Oliver caught his eye and held it, “I know how Fred and George used to tease you, I know they threw parsnips at you without giving you a chance to explain anything. I know you used to play it off as them being annoying little brothers but I know it hurt you. Frankly, I don’t blame you for being angry with them or your Dad. Have any of them tried to fix things at all before Christmas?”

“Mum has sent me things and visited once, but I closed the door in her face,” Percy mumbled, ashamed. “I sent back her Christmas jumper last year. I said some cruel things that summer I left. I’m hardly not at fault here.”

“Fair enough, no one’s perfect Perce, but reconciliation needs to go both ways,” Oliver pointed out.

Percy nodded, “I just don’t know what to do now, Christmas has made it so much worse.”

“You don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” Oliver assured him. “Sorry, for bringing it all up again, I just want you know that I’ve got your back.”

“I appreciate it,” Percy smiled. “Now, how about we talk about something different?”

Oliver nodded and paused for a moment, “that new parchment you sent your last letter on was very nice.”

Percy laughed, “not what I had in mind but yes, let’s discuss the qualities of my favourite parchments!”

“You laugh, but I actually enjoy hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about, even parchment,” Oliver replied with a slight red tinge to his cheeks.

Percy felt his face split into a beam and proceeded to explain the benefits of his new parchment and why he had moved away from the previous brand. Stationery was a favourite topic of his and yet, so few people found it riveting. The fact that Oliver was happy to listen intently, throwing in a few of his own small commentaries, whilst he sent an encouraging grin across the table made Percy’s heart burst. It took him back to Hogwarts and the conversations they used to have in their dorm about everything from quills to quaffles. To find someone that would listen to you no matter what, was a rare and special thing indeed.


	4. Dorset, June 1997

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this chapter takes place during early June before Dumbeldore dies.
> 
> Set in Dorset as according to the internet, that is where Puddlemere United is based - correct me if I am wrong!

* * *

_June_ _1997_

The roaring of the crowd across the left-hand side of the stands was infectious and Percy found himself joining in, cupping his hands over his mouth and shouting. The sea of navy and gold banners and flags moved fluidly around the witches and wizards sat high up in the stands of the Puddlemere United stadium. Percy hadn’t visited in well over two years – not since Oliver had asked him to come and watch him train after they had had lunch in the year after they had left school. A lifetime ago.

Suddenly there was a breeze of air and Oliver was hovering on his broom in front of Percy with a grin splitting his face.

“Meet me downstairs?” he shouted over the din of fans screaming at him.

Percy nodded quickly and Oliver’s smile widened before flying off to re-join his team. It had been a close match and Oliver had finally been called up to play his first match for the main team instead of the reserve. He had certainly made his mark, grabbing the Quaffle at the same time their seeker caught the Snitch, giving Puddlemere a tight win instead of a draw.

“You know Wood?” screeched a voice loudly in his ear.

Percy turned and saw two breathless teenagers starting at him in amazement.

“Er… yes? We were in the same year at Hogwarts,” he responded politely, then frowned. “Shouldn’t you be at Hogwarts?”

The boy grinned, “no, we are visiting England. We go to Ilvermorny.”

Percy nodded distractedly; normally he would have been fascinated with a discussion about the merits of the British education system in comparison to its American counterpart. However, he had noticed Oliver dismount and head into the changing rooms at the bottom.

“So sorry but I must dash,” he said over his shoulder, not looking back before descending the rickety wooden staircase.

The changing room was boisterous and loud – therefore there was no way that Percy was entering it. He paced up and down outside waiting for Oliver to finish getting changed.

When Oliver had written a scrawled note a fortnight prior to the match saying he had been moved up to the main team, Percy had finally checked in one of the multiple favours the Minister owed him and booked the Friday off work. He was determined to be a better friend to Oliver this time around – and if he was being completely honest, he had missed watching Quidditch.

“Perce!”

“Congratulations! That was an amazing performance! They’ll have to keep you on the main team now. I can always send them a note from the Minister if not!”

Oliver shrugged self-depreciatingly, “all in a day’s work, isn’t it?”

“Not for me it’s not,” Percy retorted good-naturedly.

Oliver smirked, “well yes, I’d rather be catching balls than dealing with the Minister’s problems. Anyway, you ready to head home?”

Percy was startled, “er… yes? I had hoped to spend a bit of time with you, maybe get dinner? But, of course, you want to spend time with your team. Sorry, that was silly of me to assume – ”

“Perce, you’re rambling,” Oliver injected. “I meant that you come home with me, I can order Muggle takeout and we can catch up.”

“Are you sure? You just won your first real game. Don’t you want to celebrate?”

“At the risk of sounding cheesy … I’d rather celebrate with you.”

Percy felt his cheeks go red as a pleasant feeling swooped through him, “sure, no problem. What’s the address?”

“I can side-along you?” Oliver waited for Percy to nod than took his hand tightly.

The usual unpleasant feeling of Apparation was made slightly less unpleasant by the feeling of Oliver’s warm hand in his as he led him up an alleyway towards a block of modern flats.

“This looks nice,” Percy managed, trying to focus on something other than the fact that _Oliver was still holding his hand!_

Oliver laughed, “wait till you see the mess we have inside.”

“I can imagine,” Percy responded dryly thinking of their contrasting sides of their Hogwarts’ dormitory.

“’Course, you’ve seen me in every state.”

_Oh, hadn’t he._

Oliver turned to type a code into the Muggle doorway and in doing so, dropped Percy’s hand. Percy cursed himself for missing the warmth of it; he had given up the right to hold Oliver’s hand long ago.

They walked up the first flight of stairs in comfortable silence and Oliver directed them to the first door on the right.

“ _Alohamora_!”

“I feel it is my duty as assistant to the Minister to recommend you check for Muggles before using magic in a public corridor.”

“Never change, Perce,” Oliver laughed heartily before swinging the door open. “Well, its not much and it’s definitely not the military style neatness that you’re used to but it’s home for now.”

“It’s very you,” Percy replied, stepping in and taking in the massive Puddlemere and Gryffindor banners across the fireplace and the various Quidditch jerseys and robes tossed on the assorted armchairs. There was a small kitchenette in the corner and a hallway that Percy assumed led to the three bedrooms.

Oliver shrugged, “it’ll do. The lads are as messy as me and good roommates, so it all works well. Do you want Chinese or a chippy?”

“Er,” Percy frowned.

“No! Don’t tell me you’ve never had Muggle takeaway?” Oliver grinned.

“Ottery St. Catchpole isn’t known for its Muggle cuisine,” Percy raised an eyebrow.

Oliver raised his own back, “you live in London, Perce. There must be a takeaway round every corner!”

Percy shrugged, “pick whatever you like. I’m happy to eat anything.”

Shaking his head, Oliver went over to the device on the wall and lifted it apart – Percy recognised it from his Muggle Studies classes as a telephone. Oliver spoke quickly into the phone and gave an address before putting it back on the wall.

“I’ll be ten minutes, only round the corner.”

“Why do you live in such a Muggle place?” Percy asked what he had been wondering for a while. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just curious.”

Oliver waved his wand clearing seats for them to sit down on, “Owen and Andrew are Muggleborns. When I joined the team, they were looking a roommate and well, it’s been a learning experience.”

“That’s the best type of experience,” reasoned Percy. “Dad would love it…” he trailed off.

“You know you can talk about them if you want,” Oliver smiled encouragingly. “A problem shared is a problem halved and all that.”

“I still want to see them again but well, after Christmas, I also don’t know where to begin.”

“I hope you remember what I wrote about not beating yourself up for situations out of your control. The Minister shouldn’t have done that to you.”

Percy sighed, “recently, I’ve just been worried about them. You-Know-Who is getting stronger all the time and they don’t half have a target on their backs.”

“I’ll never rush you into going back before you feel ready but for what it’s worth, I’ll support you when you do. And I think you’ll find time can heal most wounds,” Oliver said looking at Percy with such earnestness that he was sure Oliver was hinting at something else which made Percy want to look away but found he couldn’t.

“That means a lot,” he managed. “I – Oliver, thank you for everything these past few months. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oliver reached out and put a hand on Percy’s knee causing his breathing to stutter, “you don’t need to thank me for friendship, Perce. I’m here for you, as I hope you are for me … even at my Quidditch games!”

“You know I only pretend to hate Quidditch,” Percy breathed.

Oliver nodded, “there’s a lot I know about you, Percy Weasley.”

They stared at each other for an intense moment and Percy felt he may never breathe again. Fortunately – or unfortunately – the doorbell rang alerting Oliver that the food was there. He cursed, running to the door and beginning to mutter about finding Muggle money.

Percy, meanwhile, was frozen were he sat, the feel of Oliver’s hand on his leg still warm. He had been a similar situation with Oliver before. It had not ended well. It had ended in nearly three years of regret and internal debates that kept Percy up at night. Oliver was happy to discuss the Weasleys with Percy but never mentioned their own past. Percy recalled that he had no one but himself to blame for that. But Oliver had mentioned friendship; they were friends now. Friends should be open and honest, Percy considered; wouldn’t it be for the best if he cleared the air about their past?

“I got you lemon chicken and fried rice, hope that’s okay,” Oliver broke Percy out of his revive, passing him two plastic boxes and a fork. “I know you don’t like anything too spicy.”

Percy nodded and opened the box, beginning to eat. It actually wasn’t too bad. They ate for a couple of minutes in silence, the atmosphere still heavy from before the food had arrived.

“This is very different to how we celebrated the last Quidditch match I watched,” blurted Percy before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

_Okay, so this was happening._

Oliver was staring at him like a confused fish, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Percy stared back; why had he thought this was a good idea?

Eventually Oliver broke the silence, “I thought … I thought we didn’t talk about that.” Percy hated how small his voice sounded.

“I know we don’t,” Percy took a deep breath, “but can I say something, and you not interrupt me until I’m finished?”

Oliver nodded, albeit cautiously.

“So, as you know I like to examine things from all angles and make well-reasoned and proper decisions. Well… sorry, where am I going with this? Er… yes, our dormitory, the summer of ’94.”

“I remember.”

Percy sent him a pleading look and Oliver held up his hands in surrender – a promise not to interrupt again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little flashback coming up next...


	5. Hogwarts, May 1994

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating - I work in a school and if any of you are involved in education you will know things are a bit mad at the minute with Covid!
> 
> Warning: there is a slight mention of dubious consent due to alcohol in the chapter as well as internalized homophobia. 
> 
> Time frame - flashback is PoA when they win the Quidditch Cup.

* * *

_May 1994_

_Sunlight shone in through the window from the right waking Percy from a rather peaceful slumber and alerting himself to the fact he had a pounding headache. Had he not managed his usual nine hours? Wait … why was the sun not on his left? Slowly he became aware of his surroundings – namely something warm across his waist. His otherwise naked waist._

_Percy sprang up into a sitting position – a mistake for his headache – and frantically looked around. Oh, no. He was in Oliver’s bed. Oliver who was now also awake and starting up at him blearily. Oliver who, like Percy, was also not wearing anything other than underwear._

_“Hey Perce,” Oliver smiled sleepily. “Lie down again, too early.”_

_Percy began to panic and felt his breath speed up. He wracked his brain for the events which had led to this point. Gryffindor winning the cup. Oliver cheering and hugging him. Party in the common room. Firewhiskey. Sweet Merlin, the Firewhiskey. Chasing younger pupils up to bed until it was only the seventh years left. Then Oliver leading him upstairs. Percy being very giggly and …_

_“I snogged you.”_

_Oliver grinned even wider, “yes, you did.”_

_Images passed through Percy’s brain. Clothes being torn off, Oliver splayed across his bed in just his scarlet and gold Quidditch robe, sloppy, drunk kissing, more clothes coming off, Percy lying back on the bed, Percy pleading for more…_

_“We had_ sex _!”_

_Oliver looked less pleased at Percy’s tone and sat up straight, “well I suppose that depends on your definition of sex but yeah, we er … did some stuff.”_

_Percy sprang from the bed and turned accusingly to Oliver, “Why? Why would you do that to me?”_

_Now Oliver looked hurt in a way that half broke Percy’s heart, but the overriding feeling of alarm was not allowing him to do anything but panic._

_“Perce, we did it together, we were both a bit drunk, yeah, but I didn’t do anything you did not explicitly ask for. I would never … you know that. You wanted it too – in fact, you initiated most of it. Hell, I don’t know if I ever would have had the courage to kiss you no matter how much I wanted to.”_

_Percy made an undignified screech and stalked over to his own bed, grabbing jeans and a shirt. Oliver was right, despite the minor hangover, there was nothing Percy couldn’t remember … and nothing he did not want. Yes, he had been very vocal in his consent to allow Oliver to take him apart. But why? It was wrong and he had been telling himself he needed to stop thinking about Oliver like that and now in a moment of drunkenness (the only of his life) he had acted on his irrational thoughts!_

_“I did_ not _want that, Oliver,” he hissed, turning back, his heart pounding and his brain in absolute turmoil – the part of his heart that yearned for anything to put the smile back on Oliver’s face warring with the logical side of his brain telling him this was all wrong._

 _Oliver now looked torn between pain and anger, “Do not make me look like I forced you into it, Percy. How can you say that? You_ know _I would never! No with anyone and especially not with you.”_

_Percy had the sense to recognise that was too far, “so maybe I wanted it too. But it was only because I was drunk – who even allowed FIrewhiskey to be brought into school? I could be in so much trouble for this, I’m –“_

_“Head Boy. Yes. I know,” Oliver snapped._

_“I have a girlfriend, for Merlin’s sake!” Percy added, suddenly remembering Penelope – why had she not been his first thought? Oh yes, because his treacherous heart felt more for Oliver than it had ever felt for her. “I’m not … y’know…”_

_“Gay?” Oliver retorted. “That’s fine, it’s your business how you identify. But I am. So, don’t say anything you might regret.”_

_Percy took a deep breath, “look Oliver. Last night was clearly a drunken mistake…”_

_“It wasn’t a mistake to me,” Oliver interjected, looking defeated. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time if I am honest. But I promise Percy, I would never have done it if I didn’t think that you were 100% on the same page as me. I wish we hadn’t been drunk. I wish we hadn’t forgotten the fact you have a girlfriend. I wish we had talked about this before but please, do not push me away.”_

_Percy stared at the wall above Oliver, unable to meet his eye. His thoughts were running a mile a minute as his brain and his heart fought about what the right path from here was. His brain won out, “Okay, fine. Yes, last night happened. But the best solution is that we pretend this never happened and go back to being friends. But never bring it up again, Oliver. Ever. I stand by that it shouldn’t have happened.”_

_“Percy, you wanted me too. It’s okay to admit that. We could be good together.”_

_“We need to pretend this didn’t happen, Oliver. Don’t bring it up again.” Percy repeated, avoiding Oliver’s eyes._

_Oliver looked utterly heartbroken, “if that’s what you want Percy. Now, I think I’ll go back to sleep.”_

_Percy nodded and headed for the door but not quickly enough to avoid the muffled sobs from behind him._

_It took him approximately thirty-two minutes to track down Penelope in the Great Hall and break it off with her. It took him a lot longer to recover from the pain that he knew he had caused Oliver._

* * *

_June 1997_

“So, as you know I like to examine things from all angles and make well reasoned and proper decisions. Well… sorry, where am I going with this? Er… yes, our dormitory, the summer of ’94.”

“I remember.”

Percy sent him a pleading look and Oliver held up his hands in surrender – a promise not to interrupt again.

“I want to start off by apologising – I cannot and never will be able to apologise enough for some of the things I said to you, what I accused you of. I know it is not an excuse, but I want to explain why I acted the way I did – trust me, I have thought about this for years. I panicked. I had never done anything other than kiss one person – a girl – who I happened to still be dating. So, I woke up with my first ever hangover, practically naked in bed with someone who was not my girlfriend and also happened to be the boy I had I shared a room with for seven years. The boy who … if I am honest with myself – as I should have been with you – I had wanted to do that with for a long time.”

Percy looked up from where he had been fiddling with his cuff to see Oliver’s face mixed between shock and was that hope?

“I had er … thought about it before and I tried to run from it. That’s part of the reason I started dating Penny but I found I really liked her anyway and enjoyed kissing her too. So, I managed convince myself that whatever I had been feeling about you was a passing fancy in my head. I don’t know how many times I tried to convince myself of that. It never made it true,” Percy took a deep breath, scared to look up again.

“So, when I realised that we had given each other blowjobs, I panicked. Firstly, because I couldn’t even admit to myself that I might not be entirely straight – that took a few more months – and even then, it took longer to realise that it was okay. But secondly, because it happened when we were drunk and I would have preferred to be fully conscious for doing that with you … because … well, I’ve said enough already that I may as well go for it all. I think … no, I _know_ that I love you Oliver. I have loved you since before I could admit it. Since you didn’t judge me for being obsessed with schoolwork. Since you didn’t care that I couldn’t ride a broom for toffee. Since you let me tend to all your ridiculous Quidditch bruises, since you begged me to tutor you for your Potions OWL, since … I really don’t know when. And sometimes – especially over these last few years – I’ve tried to convince myself again that I don’t love you. But then you came back into my life at my lowest moment and you helped me see that not all was lost – when I definitely didn’t deserve your compassion after how I treated you. And I’m sorry that I am telling you this now – probably far too late to mend the heart I know I broke that day. Far too late for you to want anything to do with me. Far too late –“

Suddenly Oliver was kneeling in front of Percy, “look at me.”

Percy braced himself and looked up, slightly breathless from the amount of talking he had just done and saw Oliver’s beautiful eyes staring intently back at him. Percy searched for anger or rejection and felt his heart begin to pound as he saw what he could only describe as joy.

“You’re not too late, Perce,” Oliver said, slightly tearing up. “I don’t think it would ever have been too late with you.”

“I broke your heart.”

“You did.”

“I could have told you all of this for over two years.”

“You weren’t ready and that’s okay.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

Oliver reached up a hand and cupped Percy’s jawbone, “you do. You deserve to be loved Percy. And you are.”

Percy looked away, feeling his own tears bubble to the surface.

“I don’t, I can’t even make my own family love me, how can you –”

“They love you Perce,” Oliver moved closer “But at this moment and time, I think it’s more important that you know that I love you.”

A sob broke out of Percy, unbidden, “I can’t remember the last time someone said that to me.”

“I’ll say it all the time,” Oliver whispered. “But I’d also very much like to kiss you.”

Percy nodded, unable to make the first move. Oliver was gentle in a way Percy wasn’t used to him being on the Quidditch pitch as he leaned up and caught Percy’s mouth with his own. Oliver was careful, as if he couldn’t believe this was really happening. Deciding to show a bit of the infamous Gryffindor courage, Percy decided to prove to Oliver that this was really happening. He slid back into the armchair, pulling Oliver with him so he wasn’t kneeling on the floor and stretched one hand up to his short hair whilst the other fell to the small of his back. Oliver hummed against his mouth in pleasure. It felt like the most natural thing in the world as Percy deepened the kiss; why had he denied himself this? They moved together on the armchair for a long while – hands roaming, kisses pressed in sensitive parts of their necks, breathing each other in. Percy couldn’t help the grin on his face as he finally broke away for air. Oliver rested his forehead against Percy’s, breathing heavily.

“Not that I am not enjoying this immensely,” Oliver managed, “but I think my bedroom might be more comfortable.”

Percy felt himself startle slightly.

“Not for … no … I only mean,” Oliver stumbled over his words, “Percy I’m not looking a one-night fling with you. I want you around all the time, in every way. But I only meant continuing this … it doesn’t have to be anything more than you’re comfortable with … I just thought a bed might be more comfy than me squishing you in this armchair.”

Percy nodded but as he did so, he shifted and the front of his trousers brushed against Oliver’s leg causing him to let out a soft moan, “being squished in this armchair is not the hardship you make it out to be, Ol.”

Oliver grinned, pressing another scorching kiss on Percy’s waiting lips whilst running his hands down to Percy’s waist.

“Bedroom?” Percy managed.

Oliver nodded, “if you’re sure.”

“With you, yes.”

Oliver stood quickly, pulling Percy down the corridor, past two closed doors and a bathroom with a wide open door, to the last room.

“You love a theme,” Percy raised an eyebrow at the blast of scarlet and gold that hit him when he opened the door.

“Don’t tease me,” Oliver jibbed good-naturedly as he led Percy over to the bed in the middle of the room.

Percy took the lead and pulled Oliver into the middle of it, pressing his lips to Oliver’s neck and nipping him with his teeth, “I would never.”

Oliver groaned, “you can’t say that whilst doing the opposite.”

“I intend to follow through,” he replied as he worked the buttons of Oliver’s shirt open and trailed kisses down the sculpted planes of his abdomen as Oliver’s hand found purchase in Percy’s hair.

“You don’t have to.”

“Trust me Ol, I want to.” Percy emphasised his point by reaching down and palming Oliver through his jeans.

“Merlin, Perce, slow down or I’ll embarrass myself,” Oliver moaned before moving to sit up. “And you are still wearing far too many clothes.”

After that, clothes were shed quickly but the touches, kisses and caresses that followed were slow as they each took their time to take the other apart in a way that they hadn’t taken the time for three years before. Percy felt the regrets he had harboured melt away as mutual love replaced heartbreak and anguish. Oliver was all passion, warmth and love. Most importantly, _love_.

Curled around each other within Oliver’s wrinkled bed sheets, Percy turned and placed a small kiss on Oliver’s bare shoulder whilst Oliver ran a tantalising trail up and down his spine.

“You’ll stay the weekend?”

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good, that’ll be a while then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the closest I have ever got to writing smut so apologies if you wanted further details! 
> 
> I know there are sensitive issues in this chapter and I hope I have dealt with them appropriately!
> 
> Story is not over yet just because they are together now! But we will be going into Deathly Hallows territory in the next few.


	6. London, August 1997

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deathly Hallows territory - August

* * *

_August 1997_

Oliver woke to the screeching of Percy’s alarm clock which was howling ‘wake up’ in an increasingly loud and infuriating manner. Groaning, Oliver turned to nudge Percy awake so he could rest until a godly hour of the morning. He groggily noticed that Percy was in fact awake and staring blankly at the ceiling. Reaching over him, Oliver tapped the alarm with his wand causing the noise to cease.

“Perce?” Oliver questioned, gently bringing a hand up twirl through his boyfriend’s curls.

Percy turned his head slightly to catch his eye, the only indication he had heard Oliver.

“Aren’t you going to get up for work? It’s not like you to sleep in.”

“Bill’s getting married today,” he said monotonously.

Ah, Oliver had not forgotten this, but he rather thought that Percy had. There had been a letter from Bill and his fiancé, Fleur in late June, not long after he and Percy had got together. It had been written by Fleur and recounted how Bill had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback (hence why he wasn’t writing himself) and how Dumbledore had died. Oliver had been interested to hear the details of Dumbledore’s death from a first-hand, reliable source – he had given up on the _Prophet_ long ago. Never trust a paper that cares more about the romances of sports players over their achievements! Fleur had gone on to scribe a message from Bill apologising for not reaching out sooner after the disaster that the previous Christmas had been and personally inviting Percy to their wedding on 1st August. An elaborate invite – which Oliver assumed was handcrafted by Mrs Weasley – accompanied the letter.

Percy had read the letter and invite and then left them on his kitchen table before retreating to his bed for a few hours in which Oliver had decided not to disturb him. Eventually he had come out and said that he wouldn’t be going to the wedding. Oliver had wanted to discuss it, worried Percy might regret that decision but had decided, as he always tried to, that Percy’s family was an issue best left alone unless Percy started the conversation.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” he prompted now.

Percy closed his eyes, “it is. I could have gone earlier in the summer and cleared the air. I can’t turn up out of the blue at their wedding – you know what happened last time. If the twins pulled something like that again … it wouldn’t be fair to Bill. Not today.”

“If not now, then when Perce,” Oliver pushed gently, he was personally still very annoyed with certain members of the Weasley family (mostly for reasons relating to the fact he couldn’t bear to see Percy upset) but over the last few months, Percy had mentioned wanting to see them. “You’ve said it more than once that you want to go back. Dumbledore is dead – the Ministry could fall any day now. We know, as well as You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters, that Harry is close to your family. They aren’t safe – you going to see them will not change this.”

“You’re safe.”

“What?”

“You aren’t known to be close to Harry. Your family aren’t blood traitors. You have not put a target on your head in any way. But people know that we are friends at least, if they don’t know more.”

“You overestimate how much of my private life I let the press access.”

“It doesn’t matter, the Ministry is full of spies, I cannot throw my loyalty into question – to do so would be to put a target on your otherwise clear back,” Percy intoned.

Oliver blanched, “Perce, no… I won’t be the reason you aren’t seeing your family.”

“It’s not the only reason. It is important and it is easier to admit this to you than to tell Fred and George that I was wrong about something.”

“Don’t try and make light of it, I know you miss them as much as the rest of the family,” Oliver said softly.

“I made a mistake Oliver, yes, I do agree with your theory that I might not have left had I not already been made to feel so different from the rest of them,” Percy burst out uncharacteristically as he jumped off the bed and began pulling on his Ministry robes. “But yet still my pride stops me fixing it. I hate myself for it. I know you don’t like me saying it. But I can’t help how I feel. Yet, still I am terrified something will happen to them and I’m half convinced that me going there would somehow add to the danger they are in. I can’t deal with it, not today.”

Oliver watched cautiously as Percy stormed round the room picking up what he needed before heading for the door.

“Perce…”

“Just let me go to work!”

Oliver frowned; Percy had clearly been bottling up his emotions in regard to Bill’s wedding more than he had let on. He climbed out of bed himself, pulling a dressing gown on over his boxers and stopped Percy before he ran out the door.

“Stay safe at work,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Percy’s face softened slightly and he responded briefly before nodding resolutely, “enjoy your day off, Ol.”

And with that Percy headed to the Floo.

Oliver sighed looking down the hallway after him. Over the couple of months that they had been dating, Oliver was the happiest he had ever been – despite the developing war around them. Percy agreed with this and frequently reminded Oliver that they needed to take joy where they could. At this point, Oliver had basically moved into Percy’s small flat and overall life was good. Except for the Weasleys – at this point Oliver wasn’t even sure what the best course of action was.

* * *

Hours later, Oliver paced back and forth across Percy’s small kitchen, his wand gripped tightly in one hand. Percy should have been home over two hours ago. It wasn’t unusual for him to stay late but normally he sent an owl to let Oliver know if there was something he was finishing off. Oliver glanced at the clock again and it seemed to taunt him with how late Percy was. Even on his busiest days, he was not this late.

Many scenarios where running through Oliver’s head – his favourite was that Percy had simply lost track of time. Or perhaps he had gone to the wedding after all and was reconciling with his family – although in that case, he knew Percy would have told him where he was. The more sinister thoughts kept raising their head; he had been kidnapped by Death Eaters, there had been an attack in the Ministry, Percy was being tortured, Percy was …

Oliver shook himself from those thoughts; it was not beneficial to imagine worst case scenarios. He was trying to distract himself again with an attempt to resurrect the very much ruined dinner he had made them both when a noise startled him from the front door.

Raising his wand, Oliver edged down the dark hallway, wand outstretched.

“ _Lumos_.” Oliver whispered and noticed a figure through the frosted glass. Percy always Flooed home from work and no one else visited the flat. Oliver felt his hand holding his wand shake; what had happened to Percy?

The door finally came free and the figure behind it entered the hallway, caught off guard by Oliver’s wand light and throwing a hand up to their eyes.

“ _Percy_?”

“Oliver, ask me a question only I would know the answer to,” he replied urgently, hand still over his face.

“ _What_?” Oliver’s heart was beating a mile a minute, panic was ebbing away to relief but now there was confusion.

“Please, just do it.”

“Where do I keep all the letters you send me?”

“In a box that you charmed to look like _A History of Magic_ because you know no one me would open that book.”

Oliver nodded and waited for an explanation, his chest still pounding.

“Every time we meet, we must ask a question like that, so we know it’s really us,” Percy explained, finally lowering his hand. Oliver heard himself let out a noise between a hiss and a gasp as he took in Percy’s face.

“What happened? Why the question? Why aren’t you using the Floo?” Oliver surged forward taking Percy’s face gently in both his hands as he inspected the blossoming bruise across the left side of his boyfriend’s freckled face. “ _What happened?”_

“Death Eaters,” Percy managed before wrapping his arms tightly around Oliver’s neck and clutching on for dear life. Oliver wrapped his own arms around Percy and breathed in the familiar scent, trying to calm his own thoughts down. Percy was home. Percy was safe. Whatever had happened had not taken him from Oliver.

“I love you, Merlin, Perce, I love you,” Oliver realised with a start that he was crying. Percy pulled away, his own eyes starting to water. “I didn’t know where you were, and I couldn’t help but imagine the worst.”

“I’m sorry Ol, I would have messaged if I could. I wasn’t sure I’d make it home at all at one point and all I could think about was how sharp I was with you this morning … not the sort of ‘last words’ you wish for. I’m so sorry!”

“That was hardly sharp, and I don’t care, it doesn’t matter at all. You’re here, you’re home,” Oliver pressed a gentle kiss to the bruised half of Percy’s face. “Come sit down, I’ll get you some tea and you can explain.”

Percy nodded and allowed Oliver to lead him to the sofa and pass him a mug. Oliver then sat down beside him, gripping Percy’s free hand, unable to let go. Percy’s voice shook as he spoke,

“Scrimgeour is dead. They came into the office and stunned me. They took him and apparently You-Know-Who tortured him before killing him. I thought for sure I was next. I still don’t know why I wasn’t. Perhaps even the Death Eaters believe my loyalty is truly to the Ministry. Eventually they let me up and introduced me to the new Minster – Pius Thicknesse – if you ask me, he’s more of a puppet than anything else. They told me I still had a job as long as I remained loyal and then told me to go home. And I was going to – believe me I wanted out of there. But as I was leaving, I heard three men discussing a raid on a wedding.”

Percy stopped and took a deep breath.

Oliver’s eyes went wide as fear curdled in his stomach, “oh no, Perce …”

“I knew it was no coincidence, whilst stunned, I had heard debate about Harry’s whereabouts. They were discussing possible contacts and of course Ron and our family were mentioned. It’s no secret that Bill was getting married today and that many of the Order would be there. I knew at once the wedding they were going to, but I didn’t want to seem suspicious. So, I went back into the Minster and offered to work late to help him get the hang of things. He agreed. It took a few hours before reports came back and the whole time that I spent explaining things to Thicknesse, all I could picture was my family being tortured or even… or even…”

“You don’t have to say it,” Oliver reassured but his voice cracked.

Percy gripped his hand more tightly, “they’re alive.”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Oliver breathed slightly more easily again.

“Harry wasn’t there,” Percy went on. “It didn’t matter to them though. The Death Eaters tortured my family anyway. I heard them _laughing_ about it.”

Percy’s voice broke and a small sob escaped. Oliver took Percy’s mug out of his shaking hands and set it on the table before pulling him against his chest, arms tight around him.

“I should have been with them, Oliver. What if one of them had _died_? I couldn’t live with myself.”

“Percy no! You can’t think like that.”

“You-Know-Who is in power now, anything could happen. Any of them could die any day. I don’t want anyone to hurt them – I don’t know how I could manage, knowing that I never made things right,” Percy cried.

Oliver stroked his ginger hair softly, “I’m sorry Perce … I wish I could say something to make it better.”

“You being here is enough,” Percy whispered. Oliver nodded against the top of Percy’s head and let him cry it out. “Just stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere Percy, not now, not ever,” he promised.


	7. London, March 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry you probably have wondered where I have been - I work in education and as you probably know, it's a bit of a mess atm with covid-19.
> 
> Anyway, here is a longer chapter which (disclaimer) does use some text from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
> 
> This is the biggest time jump I have done so far I think but we are well into 'established relationship' territory now which is my fave for these two!

* * *

_March 1998_

“The password is Albus!”

Percy looked up from the pot of stew he was preparing; Oliver had barged into the kitchen in a flurry of Quidditch gear.

“Pardon?”

Oliver set his broom down and pulled off his gloves, giving Percy a quick peck on the lips.

“For Potterwatch! Tonight’s password is Albus!”

Percy felt his heart leap – he had heard a rumour about the illegal radio station in the Ministry but had no idea how to access it. He had mentioned it to Oliver a few weeks ago and he had said he would keep an ear to the ground.

“How did you find out?”

“Alicia Spinnet is dating one of the blokes on the Windbourne Wasps so was allowed at the match. I managed a quick catchup with her. She’s definitely on our side. I mentioned Potterwatch without saying the name – you know I can’t trust the team at the minute. Anyway, she slipped me a piece of paper. All it said was ‘ _Albus’_ – has to be the password, doesn’t it?”

Percy beamed, “must be! At least worth a try. Thank you, Oliver.”

“Well y’know I’m interested too but I can but hope to Merlin we hear how your family are,” he smiled sadly.

Percy reached out and was immediately met with a warm hug. For months he had passed his father in the Ministry and had to act like he didn’t know him – not really any different to before except for the fact that now, he didn’t want to ignore them anymore. He had heard on the grapevine that Ron had spattergroit but Percy was far from an imbecile; if Harry Potter was on the run then Ron would be with him. Meanwhile Ginny was at Hogwarts and Oliver had heard from a friend who had children there that it was very different. They had come home at Christmas covered in bruises and saying that the Muggleborns had been taken – where, they didn’t know.

Percy had a fair idea, having been working in the Ministry for the past eight months – Magic is Might – everyday he grew more hopeless than before. He did what he could; for all the twins' teasing about his love of paperwork - it had come in very useful when managing to find legal reasons to let the odd Muggleborn free from the Ministry. The fact that he watched them all day in and day out and could not help all of them was, to say the least, horrific. The overwhelming misery of seeing the flawed magical community descend into the deepest depths of racial purity was bone-chilling.

“Dinner's nearly ready, go wash up – we still have time to eat before it comes on,” he spoke aloud to Oliver.

“This’ll be good for us, Percy,” Oliver breathed “Merlin knows, we need some news that isn’t propaganda.”

Percy nodded and turned back to the stew. Dinner was a quiet affair; both of them kept glancing at the clock and fidgeting.

“You’d think we were twelve, waiting for a first date,” Oliver teased as he cleared their bowls away.

“You were having dates at twelve?” Percy raised an eyebrow.

Oliver elbowed him with a laugh before taking his hand and leading him to their bedroom where the wireless was. Percy crawled up to the headboard whilst Oliver tapped the radio with his wand, “Albus.”

There was static was a few minutes as Oliver settled in beside Percy and then an achingly familiar voice spoke through the airwaves:

“Good evening one and all, firstly can we apologize for our temporary absence from the airwaves, which was due to a number of house calls in our area by those charming Death Eaters."

Oliver grinned, “I tell you, Lee missed a job opening as a commentator but this is the next best thing.”

Percy nodded.

"But fear not friends and admirers, I have escaped with my good looks intact and we have now found ourselves another secure location," Lee was saying, “and I'm pleased to tell you that two of our regular contributors have joined me here this evening. Evening, boys!"

"Hi."

"Evening, River."

"But before we hear from Royal and Romulus," Lee went on, "let's take a moment to report those deaths that the Wizarding Wireless Network News and Daily Prophet don't think important enough to mention.”

Percy wordlessly reached out and gripped Oliver’s hand – he had been telling himself for months that the Death Eaters would loudly proclaim the death of any of the so-called blood traitors that were his family – but the fear had grown over time. They were not the sort to stay out of danger.

“It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell. A goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed. It is believed that Muggle-born Dean Thomas and a second goblin, both believed to have been travelling with Tonks, Cresswell, and Gornuk, may have escaped. If Dean is listening, or if anyone has any knowledge of his whereabouts, his parents and sisters are desperate for news.”

“He was in Ron’s year,” Percy muttered; the crushing weight of all this war had taken from the lives they used to lead was familiar after all these months.

"Meanwhile, in Gaddley, a Muggle family of five has been found dead in their home. Muggle authorities are attributing their deaths to a gas leak, but members of the Order of the Phoenix inform me that it was the Killing Curse - more evidence, as if it were needed, of the fact that Muggle slaughter is becoming little more than a recreational sport under the new regime.”

"Finally, we regret to inform our listeners that the remains of Bathilda Bagshot have been discovered in Godric's Hollow. The evidence is that she died several months ago. The Order of the Phoenix informs us that her body showed unmistakable signs of injuries inflicted by Dark Magic.”

"Listeners, I'd like to invite you now to join us in a minute's silence in memory of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Bathilda Bagshot, Gornuk, and the unnamed, but no less regretted, Muggles murdered by the Death Eaters."

“Is it terrible that I am relieved not to hear _their_ names,” Percy breathed as the radio went silent.

Oliver shook his head, “you can regret other people’s deaths whilst still being relieved. I know I am.”

Percy nodded as Lee began to speak again.

"Thank you," said Lee's voice. "And now we can return to regular contributor Royal, for an update on how the new Wizarding order is affecting the Muggle world."

"Thanks, River," said a voice, deep, measured, reassuring.

“Who is that?” Oliver frowned.

“Shacklebolt, I think,” Percy mused. “He has a very distinctive voice.”

"Muggles remain ignorant of the source of their suffering as they continue to sustain heavy casualties," said Shacklebolt. "However, we continue to hear truly inspirational stories of wizards and witches risking their own safety to protect Muggle friends and neighbours, often without the Muggles' knowledge. I'd like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings in your street. Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken."

It was Oliver’s turn to tighten his grip on Percy’s hand. Percy knew why. In mid-August, Oliver’s flatmate Andrew had gone home to find his Muggle family dead and had subsequently been ambushed by Death Eaters himself and been killed. Owen, their other muggle-born flatmate, had promptly moved his family to somewhere in Europe via Muggle airplane and Oliver had cast protective wards on his block of flats and then moved in with Percy.

"And what would you say, Royal, to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be 'Wizards first'? asked Lee.

"I'd say that it's one short step from 'Wizards first' to 'Purebloods first,' and then to 'Death Eaters,'" replied Shacklebolt. "We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving."

“Well said,” nodded Percy; Shacklebolt was the sort of man he would like to see as Minister of Magic – he had a sensible head on him.

"Excellently put, Royal, and you've got my vote for Minister of Magic if we ever get out of this mess," said Lee.

“Here, here,” Percy murmured in agreement.

"And now, over to Romulus for our popular feature 'Pals of Potter.'"

"Thanks, River," said another very familiar voice.

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

“Professor Lupin,” replied Percy with a small chuckle, “I like the name choice – Remus and Romulus – very clever.”

Oliver frowned but Percy just shook his head; he would explain the links to Roman mythology at another, less stressful time.

"Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you've appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive?"

"I do," said Lupin firmly. "There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. 'The Boy Who Lived' remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting."

“You know it’d be the same for Ron … or Hermione,” muttered Oliver softly. Percy nodded.

"And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?" Lee questioned.

"I'd tell him we're all with him in spirit," said Lupin, then hesitated slightly, "And I'd tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right."

"From what I know of him, you’re just right … and what about our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter's who are suffering for their allegiance?" Lee continued.

"Well, as regular listeners will know, several of the more outspoken supporters of Harry Potter have now been imprisoned, including Xenophilius Lovegood, erstwhile editor of The Quibbler," said Lupin. "We have also heard within the last few hours that Rubeus Hagrid"

Oliver gasped, “no!”

"well-known gamekeeper at Hogwarts School, has narrowly escaped arrest within the grounds of Hogwarts, where he is rumoured to have hosted a 'Support Harry Potter' party in his house. However, Hagrid was not taken into custody, and is, we believe, on the run."

Percy groaned.

"I suppose it helps, when escaping from Death Eaters, if you've got a sixteen-foot-high half brother?" asked Lee.

"It would tend to give you an edge," agreed Lupin gravely.

"May I just add that while we here at Potterwatch applaud Hagrid's spirit, we would urge even the most devoted of Harry's supporters against following Hagrid's lead. 'Support Harry Potter' parties are unwise in the present climate."

"Indeed they are, Romulus," said Lee, "so we suggest that you continue to show your devotion to the man with the lightning scar by listening to Potterwatch! And now let's move to news concerning the wizard who is proving just as elusive as Harry Potter. We like to refer to him as the Chief Death Eater, and here to give his views on some of the more insane rumours circulating about him, I'd like to introduce a new correspondent. Rodent?"

"'Rodent'?" said another voice, far more familiar than the rest.

“ _Fred_!” exclaimed Percy, moving instinctively closer to the radio on the bedside table.

"I'm not being 'Rodent,' no way, I told you I wanted to be 'Rapier'!"

“That’s Fred alright,” Oliver laughed.

"Oh, all right then, 'Rapier,' could you please give us your take on the various stories we've been hearing about the Chief Death Eater?"

"Yes, River, I can," said Fred. "As our listeners will know, unless they've taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond or somewhere similar, You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic. Mind you, if all the alleged sightings of him are genuine, we must have a good nineteen You-Know-Whos running around the place."

"Which suits him, of course," said Shacklebolt. "The air of mystery is creating more terror than actually showing himself."

"Agreed," said Fred. "So, people, let's try and calm down a bit. Things are bad enough without inventing stuff as well. For instance, this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill people with a single glance from his eyes. That's a basilisk, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that's glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it's safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that's still likely to be the last thing you ever do."

Involuntarily Percy and Oliver both burst out laughing.

“Merlin, I miss him,” Percy said softly, causing Oliver to give him a reassuring squeeze.

"And the rumours that he keeps being sighted abroad?" asked Lee.

"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in?" asked Fred. "Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't count on him being a long way away if you're planning to take any risks. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!"

"Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier," said Lee. "Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be 'Mad-Eye.' Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night."

The radio's dial twirled and the lights behind the tuning panel went out.

“That was wonderful,” Oliver grinned.

Percy nodded but found himself fighting back tears, “I need to do something, Oliver. I know it’s dangerous but listen to Fred … if he’s on here, I know nothing will have happened to my family but they’re all doing something, however small.”

“You’re doing something,” Oliver pointed out, “keeping your nose down, finding out what you can at the Ministry.”

“And what am I doing with that information?” he groaned. “Telling you and worrying about it. What if we tune into this next week and the news is about them?”

Oliver shifted, as if uncomfortable.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I don’t want you in danger,” he said carefully, “but it’s not right for me to keep a secret from you.”

Percy froze, “What secret?”

“Nothing bad,” Oliver quickly reassured as Percy felt his heart go into overdrive, “just, well Alicia was in what they called Dumbledore’s Army – you heard of it?”

Percy remembered, with a high dose of shame, his involvement in the failed arrest of Dumbledore over said ‘Army’ two years prior.

“Yes.”

“Well, they had these magical coins to communicate with and she has hers still – Neville Longbottom sent a message out recently mentioning ‘The Hog’s Head’ was an ally.”

Percy frowned, “The Hog’s Head?” he tried to work out why this was important and then remembered a photograph Rita Skeeter had included in _The_ _Prophet_ whilst tarnishing Dumbledore’s name, “Oh! I knew he looked familiar! The barman … he’s Dumbledore’s brother.”

Oliver nodded, “I thought so!”

“I need to visit him then,” Percy decided, mentally working out a slot in his schedule.

Oliver looked at him sadly, “I’ll not stop you but please be careful, I hear Hogsmede is crawling with Death Eaters these days.”

Percy nodded, “of course I’ll be careful.”

“You better or I’ll have far too much space in this bed just for me,” Oliver teased, pulling Percy closer and curling around him under the covers.

“It would take more than a Death Eater to stop me getting home if I knew you were in my bed.”

Oliver groaned, “are you trying to kill me.”

Percy answered with a scorching kiss.

* * *

Two days later, Percy Apparated to the edge of Hogsmede and began the walk up the street. He had purposefully worn his Ministry robes and flashed his identification card to a Snatcher who tried to approach him, sticking his nose high in the air and walking with a supreme air of importance. The man nodded and slipped back into the Alleyway he had been hovering in.

The dingy lighting of the Hog’s Head was a stark contrast to the crisp spring morning outside. Percy adjusted his eyes and scanned the bar, delighted to see it was empty except for the old man behind the counter.

“We’re closed till noon,” growled the old man without turning around.

Percy hurried across the room, “hence why I am here now, Mr Dumbledore.”

“Aberforth,” the man grunted, turning around. “And who are you?”

“Can I speak plainly here? Or is there somewhere else?”

Aberforth squinted at him, “Weasley, eh?”

Percy nodded.

“C’mon, back here.”

Percy scurried after the old man as he led him up an old wooden staircase and at the top, into a dimly lit sitting room. There was not much in way of decoration, but a large painting of a young blonde girl dominated the space above the fireplace.

“Well?”

Percy sighed, “Mr Dumbl – sorry, Aberforth, I am Percy Weasley, the junior assistant of the Minister. No – please don’t be alarmed. I’ll swear to you that my loyalties do not lie with him or his puppet-masters. I have heard on the … grapevine that you have means and ways of contacting the pupils in Hogwarts.”

Aberforth looked at him, somewhat suspiciously, “and if I did?”

Percy swallowed, “I wondered could you tell me about it? And if you know, how my sister is?”

“Weasley? Aye, she’s a right set of balls on her. Her, Longbottom, Finnigan and Lovegood are all leading a resistance of sorts – though you may have heard Luna Lovegood has been kidnapped by Death Eaters, Merlin protect her.”

Percy nodded, he had heard of Luna Lovegood’s kidnapping at Christmas but hadn’t realised she had been close to Ginny. He was happy to hear she was friends with Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan. He recalled that Neville was a bit dopey and that Seamus was a bit of a wildcard but both had been pleasant boys when he knew them.

“And what about Snape? And the other two Death Eaters he hired?”

Aberforth let out a sharp breath, “despite everything, my brother was faithfully loyal to Severus Snape until the man killed him. He would be incredibly disappointed with the state Hogwarts is in now. Snape rules with an iron fist but the Death Eaters – the Carrows – they torture the students. Anyone who steps out of line – locked in the Dungeons, target practice for the Dark Arts classes, Cruciatus Curse-”

“The _Cruciatus_ Curse?”

Percy felt sick to his stomach; Ginny may have been subjected to an unforgivable curse whilst trying to receive an education.

Aberforth nodded gravelly, “regularly. I’m sorry to tell you Weasley but Hogwarts is not the school you remember.”

“Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?” he begged, trying not to sound as panicked as he suddenly felt.

Aberforth hesitated, “your sister is currently not in the castle – it’s the Easter holidays – but I spoke to Longbottom yesterday. He believes that Potter will eventually come to the castle and help them fight the Carrows. In my opinion, it’s a long-shot – if Potter has any sense, he’d be halfway to China by now.”

“Harry Potter is not known for running from danger,” Percy found himself feeling oddly defensive of Harry as his mind reeled back to the night the Chamber of Secrets had opened. “Longbottom is right – he may come here.”

Aberforth shrugged, as if to say he did not care either way.

“Can you cast a Patronus?” Percy asked.

Aberforth nodded warily.

“Please, if anything happens at the castle – if Harry comes – or someone else. If I can help, send a message via your Patronus.”

“Stay out of it, boy,” Aberforth warned.

“Please!” Percy demanded. “You may be my only chance of knowing that something is happening.”

Aberfoth sighed, “fine – my Patronus is a goat. But on your own head be it!”

“Thank you,” he nodded and then Apparated straight home.

Oliver was waiting, pacing by the fireplace and jumped round, wand drawn when Percy arrived.

“What was the first thing I ever said to you?”

“Do you play Quidditch,” Percy replied fondly.

“And your ‘no’ didn’t put me off for some reason,” Oliver said, half in amusement, half in relief as he gathered Percy in his arms. “Well?”

“His Patronus is a goat. He’ll send it if he hears of anything I can do to help.”

Oliver nodded, “anything _we_ can do to help.”


	8. Hogwarts, May 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few notes:
> 
> Firstly this story was originally planned as five chapters but I am having a great time so I keep adding more. This chapter is the Battle of Hogwarts (oh yes, tissues at the ready my friends) and so is the next one as it was over 6000 words when I finished it so I split it in two.  
> There are some lines from The Deathly Hallows but I have tried to adapt it as much as I can to fit into Percy's POV.
> 
> Apologies in advance for:  
> 1) me trying to find a good reason why Oliver would not be with Percy when he greets his family (blame JK for this one)  
> 2) Fred :( (again, not my fault but it was painful to write from Percy's perspective)

* * *

_May 1998_

Oliver had a light hold around Percy as he dozed on his shoulder; one leg causally twisted between Percy’s own and arms loosely round his waist. They had taken an early dinner and Oliver had asked him to read to him. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence as it distracted them both from sharing their worst fears and doom-filled imaginings.

It had been nearly two months since he had gone to Aberforth and Percy felt like he was in a constant state of terror. It had started the very afternoon after seeing Aberforth when he was in work and heard Snatchers discussing how they had captured Harry Potter and taken him to the Death Eaters. Since then, he and Oliver had pieced together as much of a story as they could from various sources – Harry and two others (Ron and Hermione, they assumed) had been taken to You-Know-Who. Somehow, they had escaped and were now on the run again. The only bright side that they could find was that this seemed to have pushed the Weasleys into hiding. Percy had thanked Merlin many times for this as he knew Ginny had been home from Hogwarts. He never saw his father anymore and the twins had shut their shop in Diagon Alley. Fred and George had both been on Potterwatch in the interim and confirmed they were all safe in a ‘terribly awful safehouse”. Percy hoped George had exaggerated the ‘terrible’ side of things.

Tonight’s read had been the muggle classic, _A Tale of Two Cities_ which Percy had been enjoying but had put Oliver to sleep. Now he was lazily stroking one hand through Oliver’s hair whilst he read on in the book himself.

He was just reading about the storming of the Bastille and fantasising about the chances of a similar revolution happening in Wizarding Britain when a Patronus appeared in the living room.

The luminous goat spoke quickly, “The boy is here. The Order is coming. _He_ is coming. I’m telling you because I promised but this doesn’t have to be your fight.”

Percy untangled himself from Oliver’s legs frantically, managing to wake him in the process as the goat evaporated.

“Come back,” Oliver mumbled reaching out tiredly.

“Wake up,” Percy retorted hurriedly as he grabbed a pair of shoes and began lacing them up.

Oliver blinked sleepily, “what’s goin’ on?”

“Harry and the Order are at Hogwarts!”

Oliver sprang to his feet so quickly, Percy wondered had he been faking sleep this whole time.

“Now?”

Percy nodded, “Aberforth sent a message. There’s going to be a battle.”

“Okay, okay,” Oliver paced up and down, trying to come to terms with this news. “Is this it? Percy? Is this what we’ve been waiting for?”

Percy bit his lip, “yes, I think it is.”

Oliver nodded quickly and then pulled Percy into a crushing hug. Percy wrapped his arms around him as tightly, breathing in the warm and safe smell of the man he loved. He was suddenly terrified.

“Ol, if anything happens-“ he began.

“No!” Percy couldn’t remember Oliver ever sounding so firm. “You do not get to say goodbye to me Percy Weasley. Not now. Not ever.”

Percy reluctantly pulled away to look into Oliver’s eyes. They were sparkling with emotion.

“Okay,” he agreed. “We go to Hogwarts. We fight. We come back here.”

Oliver took a deep breath, “You know I love you.”

“That sounds like goodbye,” Percy’s voice wavered.

“It’s not, it’s just a fact.” Oliver turned quickly and grabbed his wand and his broom. “Floo?”

Percy couldn’t find the words so he just led the way to the fireplace.

* * *

“So, you’re prepared to die as well,” Aberforth sighed, giving Percy and Oliver an apprising glance.

Percy’s heart was pounding, “Aberforth, I am sorry but I don’t have time. I need to get to the castle. Now.”

Aberforth sighed, “very well, you aren’t the first tonight but tell them I’m shutting this passage and going to bed.”

“To bed?” Percy was suddenly seething. “You-Know-Who is at Hogwarts and we are taking a stand and you’re going to bed?”

Aberforth didn’t respond and instead nodded to the girl in the portrait. The girl smiled back and the whole painting swung open revealing an entrance to a dark tunnel hidden behind. Percy blinked rapidly.

“This leads to Hogwarts?”

“Don’t sound so dubious boy, half the Order including your family have gone through there tonight. It’s safe.”

Percy nodded resolutely and scrambled up on the mantlepiece and into the entryway where he was met with smooth stone steps. That made logical sense to Percy – if this led to Hogwarts, it was going to be a climb – Hogsmede was in the valley.

“Perce, I’m going to fly up, the wards are probably down.”

Percy’s heart stopped halfway up his throat.

“Yes,” Aberforth interjected, “I’ve seen a few others with brooms fly up. Go in via the Whomping Willow, the Death Eaters are using the main gates.”

“I’ll join them up there,” Oliver whispered to Percy. “I’m safer on a broom than on the ground.”

Percy nodded against his own will, “I suppose you are.”

“You need to find your family. Stay safe. I will find you later and we _will_ go home together.”

“Okay. But not a scratch,” he replied, not liking the watery sound of his voice. Not giving Aberfoth a second thought, Percy knelt on the mantlepiece and kissed Oliver gently. “I’ll see you later.”

“I promise.”

Aberforth grunted as they broke apart, “good luck,” and closed the portrait behind Percy.

Percy went to cast a _lumos_ charm but his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark that was in fact lit by rather old looking brass lamps; how long had this tunnel been here? He began the upward walk through the tunnel, trying and failing to clear his turbulent mind – was Oliver okay? Why did they agree to separate? What was he going to say to his family if he met them? What dangers would he face in the castle? Was this really the night in which it would end, one way or another?

The passage was steep, and Percy found himself losing his breath and regretting his choice of heavy robes when finally, he turned a corner and came upon another set of stone steps – these ones were much steeper but thankfully short. At the top was a small door which Percy quickly pushed through before promptly losing his balance and falling down a small entryway.

Quickly, he pulled himself up by the arm of a chair beside him, loudly exclaiming to the group of people he hadn’t fulling recognised yet, "Am I too late? Has it started. I only just found out, so I - I -"

He trailed off as his brain caught up with what his eyes had been taking in. There was a group of mostly red-headed people. Closest to him stood his mother and Ginny. Ginny was staring straight at him and appeared to have been on her way to the tunnel. He assessed that he was interrupting an argument; their mum looked distraught whilst Ginny was angry yet looked like she was about to cry. Ron, Hermione and Harry stood beyond – Harry looking resolutely at Ginny and their mum in despair. Fred, George and Bill were looking like they had been involved in the argument whilst Fleur and Professor Lupin stood back a bit. Percy was reminded of the company he had faced at Christmas eighteen months before and everything he had wished to say left his brain entirely. He recognised that he was on the verge of panicking.

The excruciating silence was finally broken by Fleur loudly exclaiming, “So- 'ow eez leetle Teddy?"

Percy had no idea who Teddy was and still he couldn’t think what to say as the silence wore on. He wondered if his siblings and parents were also remembering their last encounter.

"I - oh yes- he's fine!" Lupin said loudly. "yes, Tonks is with him- at her mother's -"

Percy and the other Weasleys were still staring at one another, frozen.

"Here, I've got a picture?" Lupin shouted.

The level of Lupin’s voice caused Percy to finally break.

"I was a fool!" Percy roared, surprising himself at the ferocity of his outburst. "I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a – a -"

"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron," said Fred raising an eyebrow.

Percy swallowed and looked at his brother; there was a hopefulness there that he hadn’t seen last time. Whilst he didn’t quite agree with the sentiment, it was an olive-branch that he would gladly accept:

"Yes, I was."

"Well, you can't say fairer than that," said Fred, holding his hand out to Percy who shook it enthusiastically which in turn seemed to be the breaking point for their mum who burst into tears and pushed past Fred before hugging Percy. Percy smiled into her hair, willing to put up with the lack of air, and patted her on the back before glancing around for his dad.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Percy said.

Arthur blinked rather rapidly, then he too hurried to hug Percy too, whispering, “I’m sorry too, son.” Percy felt himself tear up; those four words meant more than he could ever have imagined.

"What made you see sense, Perce?" inquired George as Percy pulled away and used his cloak to dry his eyes.

"It's been coming on for a while," he replied. "But I had to find a way out and it's not so easy at the Ministry, they're imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Aberforth and he tipped me off ten minutes ago that Hogwarts was going to make a fight of it, so here I am."

"Well, we do look to our prefects to take a lead at times such as these," said George in a bad imitation of Percy but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, such was his sudden joy to be back amongst his family, despite the circumstances. "Now let's get upstairs and fight, or all the good Death Eaters'll be taken."

George slung an arm over his shoulder and pulled him towards the staircase which must lead to the rest of the castle. Bill and Fleur followed which caused Percy to turn and offer a hand to the blonde woman.

"So, you're my sister in-law now?" said Percy, “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the wedding.”

“Don’t apologise,” Bill smiled.

“Really don’t, those suits were awful,” Fred muttered as they reached the doorway. Percy suppressed a smile as Ginny caught up with them.

“Gin, mum will literally kill you before a Death Eater even has the chance,” warned George.

Predictably, their mother’s sharp voice called, “ _Ginny_!”

She groaned and looked at the five of them.

“Be careful,” she said solemnly. “I want you all to kill a Death Eater for me. But please come back in one piece. All of you.” She sent a glance specifically at Percy who felt touched that his sister was so quick to accept him again.

Fred grinned, “’course Ginny, it’ll take more than ol’ Snake Eyes to defeat the Weasleys.”

Ginny nodded and went back down the stairs to their parents whilst Percy followed his brothers and Fleur into the castle.

* * *

Sometime later, Percy was in a corridor with Fred having just escaped a duel, mostly unscathed.

“How many you on?” Fred asked panting.

Percy stared at him, “are you counting the dead Death Eaters?”

“A bit of competition can be healthy,” he grinned. “I’ll have to put you at zero if you haven’t been counting.”

Percy was about to respond when two hooded figures rounded the corner and instead cast a quick “ _protego”_ to protect Fred who wasn’t looking behind him. Quickly the two of them started firing of jinxes and hexes at their opponents.

Their voices were evidently masculine and the two men were strong duellers, forcing Percy and Fred to edge their way back, careful to avoid any of the more dangerous curses being thrown at them. Suddenly three further jets of light where firing past the brothers and Percy briefly glanced to see Ron, Harry and Hermione. The man who had been duelling Percy seemed to cower in the face of higher odds and backed off so quickly that his hood slipped. Percy noticed with a feeling between glee and trepidation that it was Thicknesse.

"Hello, Minister!" bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at the wizard, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

A laugh sounded from beside him.

"You're joking, Perce!" shouted Fred as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. The Minister had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him as Percy had hoped. Fred was looking at Percy with glee which made his heart burst. "You actually are joking, Perce … I don't think I've heard you joke since you were –"

But Percy didn’t hear when the last time he had joked was as the world exploded. Percy felt himself thrown backwards through the air as he grabbed the closest person to him. He could hear screams and cries of pain but all he could see was the dark. As the air settled, he opened his eyes to see it was Ron he was holding on to, in fact Ron that he was lying on top of. And it was Ron who was making a pained and strangled noise like nothing Percy had ever heard.

Percy wiped blood and dust off his glasses and turned to see where Ron’s gaze was fixed.

And then came the real agony.

He detangled himself from his brother as they both scrambled toward the third Weasley nearby.

“Fred,” he breathed, his mind at a standstill. “ _Fred.”_

Ron made it to him first, reached out a shaking hand and rolled their brother over, so he was looking up at them. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t looking at anyone.

Percy could hear a cry so terrible and agonising that it took him a minute to realise it was coming from himself. Fred could not be dead.

"No – no – no!" Ron was shouting. "No! _Fred_! _No_!"

And Percy was shaking their brother, “ _wake_ _up_!”

It was every nightmare he had ever had come to life. It was a pain like no other. His whole being was being torn apart as he cradled Fred’s unmoving head in his hands whilst Ron sobbed at his side. Percy wished his own heart would stop so he could not feel. This pain was too much to bear.

In the background he could hear noise as people scrambled over the debris but he did not care to check whether it was friend or foe.

“No! Fred! Please?” he begged through sobs.

A massive crash and a shout, “Get down!” alerted Percy to the fact that the battle was still carrying on and he instinctively threw himself across Fred to shield him from harm.

“Percy, come on, we’ve got to move!” Percy vaguely recognised the voice as Harry’s but didn’t let go of Fred, shaking his head.

“Percy,” this voice was closer and sounded as distraught as Percy felt. Ron pulled at his shoulders, “Percy, you can’t do anything for him! We’re going to-”

Ron was cut off by a recognisable scream – vaguely Percy felt relieved that Hermione was alive, but he didn’t let go of Fred to find out why she was shouting. He couldn’t leave him. Not here. Not just when he had got him back. His little brother.

There were shouts of spells from the three who stood above him and despite the fact that his wand was clutched tightly in his hand, Percy couldn’t find it in himself to help. He wished he was dead.

"Let's move, NOW!" Harry’s voice was far more urgent now and Percy looked up slightly to see Ron pulling Hermione out of the way of a massive spider whilst Harry approached him. He reached down and lifted Fred from under one armpit. Percy went to protest before realising Harry was trying to move Fred from danger. Looking at the tracks of tears on Harry’s grief-stricken face made Percy realise that in a way, Harry had lost a brother too.

Together, they lifted Fred as gently as they could and half crawled, half crouched their way out of the crossfire.

"Here," said Harry, and they placed him in a niche where a suit of armour had stood earlier and obscured him from sight. Harry seemed unable to look at Fred and quickly turned, following the other two. Percy stood a moment longer, looking down at his brother. Memories hit him like a ton of bricks but most of all, he could picture Fred’s laughing face – as a toddler, as a mischievous child, as a rather ruthless teenager and as a young man, in this very corridor. It hit Percy he would never hear the twins laugh together again. _George._ Percy felt a wave of nausea and turned away looking up and down the corridor.

Suddenly a recognisable face appeared chasing a couple of teenagers in Hogwarts robes. Fury like nothing Percy had ever felt before tore through him.

“ROOKWOOD!” he bellowed and charged after the tall man.

“Weasley, changed sides have we?” Rookwood mocked, “should’ve known you were a filthy blood traitor like your scum family.”

“ _Stupefy!”_ the force of the spell was stronger than Percy had ever cast it before and he could feel the rage and grief coursing through every part of his body. Rookwood went flying backwards into a tapestry and collapsed against the wall with a trickle of blood running down his face. Percy vaguely noted he hadn’t meant to kill him but found himself not caring whether he had or not.

He turned to see Ron and the others but they were gone. Quickly he dashed down the corridor needing another Death Eater to focus his rage on. He was instead confronted with a witch with bright pink hair fighting two massive spiders. He joined her.

“Thanks,” she grinned. Her face was familiar and she blinked in recognition, “ _Percy_ Weasley! Oh Molly will be so happy you are alright.”

“As alright as one can be in a battle,” he pointed out, his heart threatening to crush his ribs at the thought of his mother. How would she find out about Fred?

“C’mon,” she hurried past the hideous furry corpses.

The main staircase of Hogwarts was chaotic. It seemed the castle was still happily moving the stairs around causing spells to fly everywhere. The witch cast a shield to protect them from one threatening green flash of light as they ran for a corridor that wasn’t moving.

“Have you seen my husband anywhere?” she yelled.

Percy looked at her blankly as he sent a hex towards a Death Eater in their way.

“Remus Lupin,” she expanded.

“Oh, yes. He was with my b-brothers,” Percy choked on the word.

“Good, they can protect each other,” she muttered. Percy followed her further down through a secret passageway. He figured they were heading outside where the most ferocious fighting was probably happening. Oliver was outside. He needed to find his brothers and he needed to find Oliver.

Many spells and duels later, he found himself on the lawn with Tonks; he had finally remembered her from a few years above him in Hogwarts and from seeing her in the Auror Department. Ministry traitors needed to stick together.

Fred had asked how many Death Eaters he had hit and he hadn’t known then and still didn’t know but he knew it was high. Every single one he saw go down he took as a hit for Fred. Fred, who he would not be able to tell. He gasped for air just as Tonks shouted beside him.

“REMUS!”

“You should be at home!” Lupin called back in despair as Percy watched in horror as a green light flew towards Tonks. He pushed her out of the way at the same time Remus dived for her. The light hit Remus who crumpled between Percy and Tonks. Cackling sounded as a deranged looking witch moved towards them.

“HAH! My filthy cousin’s pet werewolf!” Bellatrix Lestrange advanced on Lupin’s body and kicked him over with her foot. Percy felt revulsion spill out of him, “ _stupefy_!”

She blocked him with a hissed curse. Tonks had recovered from the fall but was now screeching. Percy couldn’t deal with her grief; his own was too raw.

“Oh, my, my, this is quite the family reunion!” Bellatrix squealed in obvious delight. Percy made to curse her but she was faster, “ _petrificus totalus_! I do like an audience, blood traitor.”

Percy lay frozen on the ground, his wand out of reach, in despair.

“Dear little Nymphadora, you have grown up!” the death eater cooed. “How’s mum and dad?”

Tonks seemed deaf to her, clutching at Lupin’s body and crying. Cackling, Bellatrix went on, “oh yes, your mudblood father is dead! Did you cry for him like you cry for this werewolf? You are a disgrace to the blood of the House of Black that runs through you. My filthy cousin, Sirius seemed to have a fascination for this particular werewolf too. How fitting that I killed them both.”

Percy frantically tried to unbind himself, but he had never been strong at wandless magic.

“The only disgrace to the House of Black here is you,” Tonks turned on her aunt, seething. “ _Avada_ –“

But she was too slow, her aunt got the curse out quicker and Percy watched as Tonks collapsed over Lupin’s body, her hair fading to a light brown. Bellatrix cackled again before _dancing_ away towards a fierce duel at the edge of the forest. 

Percy felt himself start to cry as he stared at Tonks and Lupin. It was too much. He couldn’t be left to his own thoughts, he needed to be doing something. He needed Oliver. Was he okay? Where were the Weasleys? Had Ginny stayed safely behind What if someone had found Fred? Where was George?

“PERCY!”

The shout was confused and horrified, yet familiar enough that Percy knew who it was.

“Percy,” Charlie’s face appeared above him, “are you okay? What are you doing here? When did you arrive? Oh – ” he cast the unbinding spell.

Instead of answering the questions, he felt himself burst into hysterical tears. Charlie grabbed his face and made him look at him, “what’s wrong Perce?” What’s going on?”

Percy couldn’t stop crying and Charlie looked around frantically before spotting Tonks and Lupin crumpled in the grass. He let out his own noise of distress and Percy knew he needed to tell him. Better all at once then spreading it out.

“Fred,” he managed through hyperventilating tears.

Charlie looked at him, “I’m Charlie, Perce, have you hit your head?”

“No,” he sobbed. “ _Fred_.”

Understanding began to dawn, “Where’s Fred? What’s happened?”

“He … he … don’t make me say it,” he cried.

“Percy, _please_ ,” Charlie was begging, “tell me you are not serious.”

“I wish I could.”

“No...” Charlie managed through tears.

“He was laughing,” supplied Percy helplessly and Charlie threw his arms around him.

Together in the dark corner of the grounds, the two brothers fell into one another and let the tears flow. Percy wasn’t sure how long they sat there and how they managed to do it without getting hit but time passed and suddenly an icy voice filled the night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will update with the rest of the Battle soon and then I have a few more chapters planned (got to get that happy ending for my two favourite Gryffindors) 
> 
> Shout out to you if you noticed the slight reference to Remus/Sirius, my other main 'basically canon but isn't because JK hates representation' ship.
> 
> Also I know Charlie doesn't appear until later in the battle in the book but I wanted him here now and so he is. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :)


	9. Hogwarts, May 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here is the rest of the Battle - apologies in advance, there is much angst.

_May 1998_

"You have fought valiantly,” said the high, cold voice of You-Know-Who sending a shiver tingling down Percy’s spine. “Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity.”

Charlie’s involuntary sob shook Percy’s body.

“Treat your injured. I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself.”

Percy felt a wave of revulsion for the disembodied voice; Harry was not that sort of a wizard. The distress on Harry’s face when Fred had … it was enough to make Percy want to find You-Know-Who himself and defend the boy.

“I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

“We should move,” Percy’s voice was hoarse.

Charlie nodded, “where is he?”

“Top floor.”

They staggered to their feet and each conjured a stretcher. Percy lifted Lupin carefully and pulled him on to one of them, remembering the funny and cheerful man who had given him the best Defence Against the Dark Arts education he had received, who had suffered through all his endless questions after class without complaint, who had replied to Percy’s note of thanks when he got his Outstanding NEWT. He watched Charlie lift Tonks to the other stretcher.

“She was one of the best friends I had at Hogwarts,” Charlie said morosely. “And d’ya know she’s the only girl I’ve ever gone on a proper date with – we both agreed it was terrible, mind. Meant to keep in better touch these last few years. It was only last week she sent me a photo of the baby.”

“Teddy,” Percy said sadly, remembering Lupin and Fleur’s conversation, as they began to hover the stretchers towards the castle, “he’s an orphan now.”

Charlie remained silent; what else was there to say? Up ahead there were similar sights as people moved the injured and dead into the castle. Percy scanned the scattered crowd and nearly cried again when he saw Oliver’s familiar gait.

“ _Ol_!”

His boyfriend turned from where he was helping Angelina to her feet and rushed across the grass, gathering Percy in his arms.

“You’re alright,” he breathed, pressing a long kiss to his forehead.

Percy gulped, “I’m alive.”

Oliver scanned his face and Percy knew he could see the grief and the agony, “who?”

“Fred.”

Percy couldn’t bear to see the tears form in Oliver’s eyes so pulled him close and buried his nose in the familiar scent of his neck. A moment of comfort from the hell around him.

A throat cleared behind them.

_Oh._

“I-“

“You don’t have to explain, Percy,” Charlie said quickly, holding his hands up. “Least of all to me.”

Oliver and Percy exchanged a glance; they could discuss that later. For now, they needed to get inside.

“Go be with your family,” Oliver whispered quietly. “They need you. I’ll keep helping with the injured.”

“You’re physically okay, aren’t you?” Percy checked as he glanced down Oliver’s body looking for any sign of harm.

“Physically, yeah,” Oliver noted, clearly eyeing up Percy in a similar manner. “We can talk about the rest later. I love you.”

Percy nodded, “I love you too,” and gave Oliver’s hand a last squeeze before moving on with Charlie.

“I know this is really not the time but please would you mind keeping that – Oliver and I – to yourself … just for now. No one else knows yet and I would rather tell them in my own time,” Percy explained haltingly, not quite sure what he was trying to say but knowing he needed control over this.

Charlie gave him a reassuring pat on the back, “you know me better than that Perce. But for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you. C’mon, let’s go.”

* * *

In the Great Hall, they gently laid Lupin and Tonks down and turned to go and find Fred when they saw Bill and Fleur, both white as sheets. Instead of a stretcher, Bill was cradling Fred tightly against his chest. He met their eyes and lowered their brother to the floor beside Tonks.

“Dean Thomas found him upstairs,” Bill croaked, holding onto his wife for support. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I do,” Percy replied and as if from a distance heard himself recount what had happened in that dark and dusty corridor only a couple of hours prior.

“I saw Ginny with George a while ago,” Bill said after Percy had finished. “They mustn’t know yet. I suppose it’s … good … not the right word … sorry, at least Ron knows.”

Percy stood there, between his older two brothers as they all watched their next youngest lying, almost peacefully, on the floor. The pain threatened to burst out in hysterics again and it might have, had Percy not caught a glimpse of ginger hair in the doorway of the hall. There stood their parents, George and Ginny. All four of them were frantically looking around. Percy took in their faces and willed himself to remember those looks which were without question going to be happier than what would follow. He was looking at Ginny when she noticed them and watched her eyes take in the scene and crumble. Her sob alerted George.

“I should go to them,” Charlie muttered but even as he made to, their mum and dad were running across the room, Ginny not far behind.

“FRED!” cried their mother in distress.

Their father’s face was shattered, “no, no, no…”

Only George walked slowly, as if in a trance.

Percy closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to watch as his mum fell at their feet, her agonising sobs tearing through the hall. He heard Fleur whispering to Ginny and their dad about what had happened. He finally opened his eyes when he felt a presence at his shoulder.

“George –“ Bill reached out but pulled back as George literally collapsed on his knees beside Fred’s head. The awful crack of bone against the ground reverberated in Percy’s ears. George made no sound as he reached out tentatively to touch his twin’s forehead. Percy wished he would cry; his silence was far worse.

Turning away, he saw Hermione and Ron approaching them and was grateful that Hermione wrapped his sister in a warm hug whilst he pulled Ron close. He was the only one there who, like him, had witnessed their brother’s last laugh leave his face; what a terrible way to bind them together.

And that terrible part of his brain where his insecurities often formulated (that Oliver always told him to ignore) whispered to him: _it should be you._

* * *

Over an hour had passed in a daze as they dealt with this new reality in which their brother and son was dead. Percy had listened politely to a few people who had come over and shared their sadness about Fred but he spent most of the time staring at his siblings and parents (and Oliver when he was in and out of the hall) checking that they were still alive. Ginny had gone outside after a while to help with the injured but was back with them now.

Ron and Hermione had realised quite quickly that Harry had disappeared and were looking for him. They had just entered the hall again looking distressed – Ginny had quickly run over to them – when a loud and chilling voice reappeared, deafening the crowd.

"Harry Potter is dead.”

Cries and rebukes filled the hall. Percy’s eyes flashed to the entrance again and saw his youngest siblings and Hermione turn and dash for the door.

“He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

Silence filled the hall and then gradually people began to move towards the door after Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Percy walked quickly, trying to keep them in his sight.

He was almost at the front of the crowd when he heard her.

“NO!”

Professor McGonagall’s usually calm voice was distorted so greatly, Percy felt all hope leave his body. Harry was gone. It couldn’t be.

Everyone was pouring out into the grounds facing a long line of Death Eaters. Voldemort stood in front with Hagrid by his side.

"No!" Ron’s agony burned through Percy’s eardrums.

" _No_!" Hermione’s cry cemented the truth that he hadn’t dared believe as they saw Harry in Hagrid’s arms.

"Harry! HARRY!" it was Ginny’s anguished cries however that propelled him forward. Instinctively he needed to do something to help her. Comfort her. Wrap her in his arms as he had done after the Chamber of Secrets. Their father got there first, pulling her back as she lunged towards Voldemort. Percy reached for them both.

"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Percy saw Ginny’s scream try to escape but all that came out was silence.

"You see?” said Voldemort. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" yelled Ron, and Percy felt the charm broke. Suddenly everyone was screaming, until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort "killed while trying to save himself -"

Neville Longbottom ran forward and was propelled back just as quickly with a disarming spell.

"And who is this?" Voldemort asked. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Percy looked away; he couldn’t bear to see more death tonight. He scanned the crowd and found Oliver a few metres away with Lee Jordan. He tried to settle his breathing by taking him in. This could not be the end. They were going to survive this. Percy felt himself counting to ten and taking deep breaths; he was not going to lose anyone else tonight.

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," Neville’s shout refocused him on what was happening. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was a cheer from the crowd.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," said Voldemort loudly, holding up the sorting hat which he had summoned. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield and colours of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

He pointed his wand at Neville, then forced the hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. Percy raised his wand, along with others. His Dad was physically having to restrain Ginny who was staring at Neville in despair as Voldemort flicked his wand and set the hat on fire.

Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame.

Suddenly a loud uproar came from the boundary of the grounds and Percy turned in disbelief and hope as he watched hundreds more people pelting towards the castle. Then came centaurs and their arrows which were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise.

“He’s free!” Ginny cried drawing Percy’s attention back to Neville who was suddenly swinging a sword – where had that come from? – straight at the giant snake with Voldemort.

“Where’s Harry?” whispered their dad. Ginny and Percy both flicked their gaze back to the ground as Hagrid began shouting the same thing.

“ _No_!” Ginny sobbed before taking a deep breath and determinedly pulling out her wand. “We have to fight. For him.”

And suddenly the crowd was pouring back into the building, Percy managed to reach Oliver this time.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” he shouted over the din as they ran up the steps.

“The feeling is very much mutual,” Oliver promised.

The battle commenced in fury again and Percy was relieved to note the Death Eaters were certainly outnumbered this time and falling like flies.

Percy stayed side by side with Oliver and his father as they took down Death Eater after Death Eater. It was almost too easy – none of the Death Eater’s spells seemed to be hitting their mark.

He kept track of his family as best he could; George took down Yaxley, Ron sent an excellent curse at Greyback. Ginny was duelling Bellatrix with Luna and Hermione. Together, he, Oliver and his dad took down Thicknesse.

Percy’s vengeance was momentary as he heard his mother shout, "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

“ _Ginny_!” shouted their father. Percy watched in amazement and trepidation as his mum pushed Ginny and her friends aside and took on Bellatrix.

Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

"No!" his mum cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

Oliver grabbed Percy’s hand and led him closer but they strayed on the side-lines as his mother instructed. It seemed everyone had stopped to watch the duel as they lined the hall. Percy’s heart was pounding in his ears.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

Percy wanted to kill her. If his mother didn’t, he would.

"You - will - never - touch - our - children - again!" screamed his mum.

Bellatrix laughed as Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.

“YES!” Oliver punched the air and Percy was fondly reminded of how excited he got at Quidditch games, despite the obviously much higher stakes here.

Voldemort screamed and blasted McGonagall, Shacklebolt and Slughorn backward. Percy felt his blood go cold as Voldemort advanced on his mother; he tightened his grip on Oliver’s arm.

" _Protego_!" roared a voice, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source as _Harry_ appeared in the middle of the hall.

Percy felt his eyes widen more than he thought possible as he watched the two begin to circle each other. Harry was meant to be dead. They had seen his body. How had he tricked Voldemort?

"I don't want anyone else to help," Harry said loudly. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

"Potter doesn't mean that," Voldemort hissed, although he was clearly shaken by the re-emergence of a very much alive Harry Potter. "This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…"

Percy listened carefully as the two discussed back and forth about Snape’s loyalties, Horcruxes and the Elder Wand. He could scarcely believe this was happening.

“… and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy …"

"But you're too late," said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him."

Harry twitched the wand in his hand, and Percy stared at it in amazement; if he had been following this correctly and that was Draco Malfoy’s wand then Harry had won. _They_ had won. He bit his lip and clutched Oliver’s hand.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does … I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Expelliarmus!"_

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the Elder Wand spun across the enchanted ceiling as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward.

Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand. Percy felt a grin tear over his face as he watched Ron and Hermione, then Ginny run towards him as he stood over the body of the man who had tortured them for so long. Percy’s relief was so great that he ran forward along with Bill and George and surrounded Harry.

The war was over.

Percy could share this joy with Harry, with Bill, Charlie, George, Ginny and Ron, with Oliver, with his parents, with hundreds of others.

But he could not share it with Fred.

And really, was that even a victory at all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this had me crying - I have never written the Weasleys' reaction to Fred's death before so I hope I made it realistic.
> 
> In happier news - Oliver and Percy are alive and Charlie know about them and is a supportive bro (my personal opinion is that Charlie is LGBT+ too) 
> 
> It may be a bit longer before the next chapter as I have not finished writing it yet (although I have written the two that come after). I want to explore in the next chapter how Percy and Oliver deal with the aftermath of the war so there will be more angst (sorry) but lots of comfort (yay).


	10. London, May 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: discussion of imprisonment in Azkaban and allusion to suicide (not Percy or Oliver)
> 
> This chapter and the next one are really two parts of a whole - a series of moments in the aftermath of the battle. Grief and traumatic events are processed differently by everyone and some ways are healthier than others but I have tried to make them as realistic as possible.

* * *

_May 1998_

“Here, Percy, did you peel the potatoes for dinner?” Oliver called down the hallway of the flat. “I thought you said you were going to.”

Oliver waited for a response but nothing came. He glanced around the kitchen and really there was no change since this morning when he had left to see his parents.

An uneasy feeling filled his stomach as he moved through the flat to their bedroom at the end of the hall. The room was dark and there was a Percy-sized lump under the duvet.

“Perce?” he asked quietly, “are you okay?”

No response.

The curtains were closed which assured Oliver that Percy had at least moved at some point during the day as he had opened them hours ago whilst getting dressed.

Oliver cautiously walked over to the window and pulled one of the curtains open so the room lit up. Turning, he felt his heart drop.

Percy was staring straight at him from the bed, blanket pulled right up to his shoulders. The sheets were crumpled and Percy’s hair was a mess. It was four in the afternoon. In all his years of knowing Percy – on the days after an all-night study session, on the stressful days throughout the past year, even on the morning after the Battle and the day after Fred’s funeral – Oliver had never known Percy to stay in bed all day.

Percy continued to vacantly stare at the window; Oliver wasn’t even sure he was seeing him.

“Hey love, what’s wrong?” a stupid question, he knew but something needed to be said. Slowly, he moved over and sat at the edge of the bed.

Again, no response.

Oliver felt the panic grow.

“Percy, I’m going to move you up a bit, okay?” he explained as he moved. “I need you to know I’m here. Look, I’ll sit against the headboard and you can lean on me. Do you want your glasses? I know you get sore heads if you don’t wear them. Have you eaten anything? Do you want to talk about it? Was it a nightmare? What can I do? Sorry, I should stop asking so many questions…”

“It should have been me.”

Percy’s croaky voice sent a shiver down Oliver’s spine.

“I don’t understand love,” although Oliver had a terrible feeling that he knew exactly what Percy meant.

“It should have been _me_ ,” Percy repeated more vehemently.

Oliver waited with a growing sense of dread.

“Not Fred.”

The elaboration was like a dagger into Oliver’s heart. He let out a sob, “Percy, _no_.”

“Don’t tell me I’m wrong,” Percy ground out. “I know it’s true. He was a much better person than me. So much funnier. And he was always there for Ron and Ginny. Unlike me. I wish I were dead instead of him. And this isn’t some sort of self-hatred or an insecurity about my family. I know they love me. I know that. But that wall hit Fred, Ron and myself. If one of us had to die… it should have been me.”

Percy glared at him as if daring Oliver to contradict him. Sadly for Percy, Oliver had many years of experience contradicting him and had never been more ready to do so than at this moment.

“You are right that Fred should not have died,” Oliver began slowly, “but you are very wrong if you think you should have died instead.”

Percy tried to interrupt but Oliver pressed a finger to his lips gently.

“Fred should not have died. No one should have died. Just because you survived and he didn’t doesn’t mean _you_ should’ve died, Perce. There was an explosion, it was unstoppable. So maybe, if you had been the other way around you would be … d-dead. But would that leave anyone any happier? Your siblings would still have lost a brother. Your parents would still have lost a son. … I would’ve l-lost you. And knowing Fred, he’d probably feel as awful as you do now.”

Oliver turned slightly to look Percy straight in the eye.

“You are allowed to cry, Percy. You’re allowed to grieve. You’re allowed to be angry with You-Know-Who and all the Death Eaters. But I am begging you – please never think there would be any less pain if you had died in Fred’s place. Do you think he would want you to feel this way?”

Percy wrapped his arms tightly round Oliver’s torso, “Of course he wouldn’t. He would tell me to stop being a melodramatic fool or something. Probably give me one of those blasted sweets he invented to cheer me up.”

“I actually may have some Canary Creams if it would help?”

Percy looked at him, “the fact that you are willing to turn into a canary to make me feel better tells me all I need to know about how much you love me but right now, I think I would cry at the sight of the packaging.”

“Another time then,” Oliver replied softly.

Percy shifted slightly, “talking seems to help a bit though.”

Oliver nodded, “what do you want to talk about?”

“Can you tell me about your memories of Fred. Anything – you spent a lot of time with him at school. Probably more than I did.”

“Hey, none of that!” Oliver admonished, deciding now wasn’t the best time to remind Percy that the reason for that was that the twins liked to wind Percy up. “Of course I will talk to you about Fred – tell me to stop if it gets too much.”

“I will.”

“The thing I will never forget about training the team at Hogwarts is how much they all collectively wanted to kill me every time I organised an early morning practice. Angelina and Alicia had no problem in telling me straight up that they were annoyed. Katie and Harry were more likely to just go with the flow but their eyes always gave away how tired they were. But the twins – I always thought they made it their mission to torture me with well placed jibes in my speeches or laughs at my expense. Honestly though, if it wasn’t for them intervening I probably would have had a mutiny on my hands. Fred stepped between Alicia and me on one occasion when I was sure she was going to jinx me and quipped ‘if you think giving Wood boils is going to stop him waking you up at dawn then I don’t hold out much hope for your OWL grades’. She jinxed him instead.”

Percy snorted an involuntary laugh.

“Not to say that he didn’t torture me himself – the dungbombs inside my boots and headgear are still not something I am prepared to forgive him for.”

“The dorm did stink for days,” Percy admitted.

“Although, he and George did pull me out of the showers after a particularly bad loss telling me that I had better not drown myself as finding a new captain and keeper at that point in the year would be too much stress for McGonagall to handle.”

Oliver smiled to himself, “the best part of having the twins on the team was how fiercely protective they were. Perfect traits for Beaters. Like at the heart of all the pranks and teasing, I don’t think anyone else would have done the job better.”

“No, I think you are quite right about that,” Percy agreed softly.

* * *

_The next day_

After sealing the envelope, Percy attached the letter firmly to Hermes’ leg and sent him out of the window with a quick disillusionment charm – one of the cons of living in London was that owls were not a common species. He turned back to the porridge on the stove and gave it a final stir before pouring it out and grabbing a spoon.

“Any for me?”

Percy jumped, nearly dropping his bowl, “sweet Merlin!”

Oliver looked apologetic as he opened the fridge and grabbed the bottle of pumpkin juice, “sorry, thought you knew I was in the doorway.”

Percy shook his head and began eating, “I sent Hermes off with that order of Quidditch supplies. I can pop into Diagon Alley for the special broom resin on the way back from the Ministry.”

“Thanks,” Oliver replied, dropping a kiss on the top of Percy’s head. “You seem more yourself this morning.”

Percy smiled to himself; his casual tone seemed to have worked.

Oliver stopped short at the door, turning slowly.

Or maybe not.

“Did you say the Ministry?”

Percy shrugged, hoping he appeared nonchalant, “yes.”

“We haven’t talked about this, love. Are you sure you’re ready to go back?” Oliver set the glass of juice down and looked at him with concern. Percy understood why he was concerned – just yesterday he had spent the day in bed looking an utter sight and definitely not in a good mental place to be returning to work.

“I’m not really going to work, just visiting the building. I want to check the Ministry Library for some books that Flourish and Blotts are out of. You’re right, I am not ready to sit back in that office yet,” Percy agreed.

Oliver nodded slowly, “and you weren’t going to tell me this?”

“Not because I was trying to hide it from you on purpose,” Percy explained. “I just need to do this myself if you know what I mean. Even just thinking about standing in the Atrium again terrifies me, Ol.”

“The Muggleborns?”

Percy nodded, swallowing hard, “you know I can still picture their cries, their screams. Normal people. People I knew. I couldn’t help them all.”

“You did your best,” Oliver assured, hugging him from behind.

Percy sighed, “I tried but there was only so much that could be done. But anyway, I will go in there this morning, hopefully find the books I need and get back to you as soon as possible.”

“Don’t forget the broom resin,” Oliver replied with a smile, leading on from Percy’s lighter tone.

“I won’t,” Percy agreed before heading to the Floo.

* * *

“Is that all Mr Weasley?” the librarian checked as she checked his Ministry ID against her books.

Percy had been able to obtain three of the books he had been looking – all about dealing with grief and trauma. After all, he was still a firm believer that almost every problem could be solved by studying and gaining knowledge.

“Yes, thank you,” he said before heading back towards the elevators.

Down in the Atrium, his stomach gave an unpleasant swoop but thankfully – as it had been on arrival – the main statue was the restored Fountain of Magical Brethren. 

Not wanting to stay longer than he had to, Percy made his way to the Apparition zone at the end of the fireplaces. In his hurry, he managed to run into someone.

“Oof!” he regained his balance and held out his hand for the witch he had knocked over, “I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry. I hope … _Penelope,_ is that you?”

A look of recognition crossed the face of the woman as she straightened her robes. Percy took her in; her face was gaunt with dark shadows and her hair – whilst still blonde – was limp. It was her eyes that shocked him the most. Years ago, he had thought they were the prettiest part of her face. Now they looked empty and … dead.

“Sorry,” she replied apologetically. “I know that I know you but my memories are very messy at the moment. You look so familiar.”

Percy felt a lump rise in his throat, “I’m Percy, we went to Hogwarts together.”

She seemed to be thinking very hard and then a ghost of a smile broke across her face, “Percy _Weasley_! Yes, I remember. You were Head Boy – we were in the same year.”

Percy felt his face fall; what had happened to her in the war?

“I’m sorry – clearly we must have been friends,” Penelope spoke quickly, taking in his facial expression. “I just … I don’t remember many happy things these days.”

A chill went up Percy’s spine as it suddenly clicked in his brain. How had it taken him so long to realise? Denial, perhaps? Penelope’s parents were Muggles. Sweet Merlin, hadn’t she already suffered enough in their sixth year?

“You were in Azkaban?”

Penelope flinched.

“Oh, Penelope,” Percy felt tears well up behind his eyes. “I’m – I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

Penelope frowned, “it’s not your fault. I mean … I assume its not or you wouldn’t be walking around free at the minute.”

“No, I wasn’t a part of the Commission,” Percy swallowed “But I did work here last year – I tried when I could to help Muggleborns but I couldn’t help you all. Merlin, I wish I could have helped you. I’m so sorry.”

“I suppose it’s something that you even tried,” she said hollowly, “more than can be said for some. You know Saoirse Parks from Hufflepuff? Her boyfriend turned her over to the Commission – they’d been together years! We shared a cell … at least we did until she went mad enough to find her own way out of there. It was only a few weeks after I went in. After that, I lost track of the days – I don’t actually know how long I was in there but the record says eight months.”

The monotonous way that Penelope recounted such a horrific story made Percy want to pull her into a hug but he knew he did not have the right to do so. From a factual perspective he knew what the Ministry had been doing but seeing and hearing her account made him want to vomit up the porridge he’d eaten an hour before.

“Is there anything at all I can do?”

Penelope shrugged, “I’m here to finish the re-registration process today and then I’ll be able to get a wand again. They destroyed mine in front of me. Told me I stole it. Thing is I now can’t even remember the day I got it – the dementors took that from me.”

Her heartbroken face made Percy grab a notebook from his pocket. He quickly wrote his address down and handed it to her.

“Will you take this at least? I live here in London – you can write to me. Or visit me and Oliver – you know from school, we er… live together – I know it’s not much but it would be good for you to have a friend right now.”

Penelope took the page with a look of intense relief, “thank you Percy. Truly. I don’t have a lot of contacts at the moment – friends count as happy memories. I am sorry I can’t remember the details of our friendship, but I know you were a friend and I really need a friend right now.”

Percy smiled sadly. Penelope did the same.

“Well, I better go,” she nodded towards the elevators, “I’ve waited long enough to use magic again.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” he offered.

“That means a lot Percy, but there are some things that you have to work through yourself,” she replied patting his shoulder.

Percy nodded, “that I understand.”

“I will write to you though,” she said, waving the page about before turning and walking to the elevator.

As soon as she was out of sight, he turned to the nearest fireplace and Flooed home.

Oliver was in the living room exercising when Percy stumbled out of the fireplace, arms full of books.

Percy took one look at his boyfriend who was mid-lunge and burst into tears, “I didn’t get the broom resin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably have the next chapter up tomorrow. 
> 
> I promise this is going to get happier - sorry for the angst!


	11. The Burrow, June 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what - I finally wrote a chapter which is not 90% angst!!
> 
> First part is at Oliver and Percy's flat, second part at the Burrow.

* * *

June 1998

_Flashes of red and green filled the night sky as Oliver pulled his broom up short to dodge a stunning spell. His eyes scanned the ground below looking for someone to assist. More green light. Red hair. An explosion. Green light. Wait, red hair … Oliver willed his broom forward._

_“Stupefy!” he cried._

_“Avada kedeva!”_

_Oliver watched in horror as his curse hit the Death Eater at the same time that green light burst into Percy’s chest._

_“NO!”_

_He had been too slow. Why was his broom not moving faster?_

_Still about four feet off the ground, he jumped and, ignoring the pain that shot up his right leg, ran for Percy. Percy who stared up at him vacantly._

_That’s when he started screaming._

“Oliver!”

Gasping, Oliver opened his eyes and blinked rapidly as his heart rate began to normalise. He wasn’t at Hogwarts. He was in bed. Percy was leaning over him in concern, looking very much awake. Very much alive.

“It’s okay,” he whispered soothingly, “another nightmare?”

Oliver nodded slowly, still taking stock of the fact he’d been dreaming. _Percy was alive. It was okay._

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Oliver closed his eyes and saw the same image over and over again. Green light. Percy falling. He was too slow.

“I lost you.”

Percy didn’t seem surprised; after weeks of various nightmares and flashbacks, it would take more than this to surprise either of them.

“I’m right here,” he replied softly. “It was only a dream.”

“You know saying that doesn’t make it okay,” Oliver groaned, turning into his pillow in frustration but keeping his eyes open – he didn’t like what he saw otherwise.

Percy fell back against his own pillow, staring at the roof, “I know … that’s the worst part really – it’s not just a dream. It’s never _just a dream_. Sorry, I should not have said it was.”

“I say it to you as well,” Oliver pointed out. “Neither of us really know what to say.”

Percy made a noise of agreement, “what is there to say? We’re suffering the effects of trauma, Oliver. Not just from the Battle but all the months before. Not to mention the grief.”

Oliver was quiet for a moment as he took Percy in; he was wearing his glasses and the bags under his eyes were massive. A book lay open on the bedside table under the flickering lamp. It looked like it had been thrown there carelessly.

“Did I wake you?”

“Hmm? You know I don’t mind, Ol,” Percy sent him a tired, yet reassuring smile and reached out a hand.

Oliver propped himself up on an elbow, “I know. But that’s not what I asked, love. Have you slept at all tonight?”

“I tried,” he mumbled, turning his eyes down. “I just -”

Oliver shuffled up to the headboard and gathered Percy in his arms; there really weren’t the words sometimes. They both knew this wasn’t something they were just going to get over. Oliver had spent many nights and days drying Percy’s tears over Fred whilst Percy comforted Oliver as he replayed the moment he had tried to save the young teenager, Colin Creevey from death. Like in his dream about Percy, Oliver for once had not been fast enough on his broom. They both mourned the loss of friends and dealt with the memories of blood, green light and fear as best they could. Sometimes they clashed; not unexpectedly as Percy pointed out from his research that anger was a common side effect. Despite both of their stubborn streaks, they could never go for too long without making up.

“Is it always going to feel like this?” he asked quietly.

Percy glanced up from where he was leaning on Oliver’s chest, “like what?”

“The feeling that no matter what we do to try and be happy, there’s always going to be _something_ that stops it,” Oliver responded, running a hand down Percy’s spine.

“Maybe this is just what life is like, a mixture of both,” Percy reasoned. “I can’t imagine ever not missing my brother. But I also can’t imagine lying in bed with you in forty years and not thinking I have had the happiest of lives.”

Sometimes the things Percy’s said were so intrinsically intelligent that Oliver had to take a moment to appreciate the brain of the man he loved.

On other occasions – such as this one – he had to take a moment to somehow prevent his heart from bursting straight out of his chest. For all his confident demeanour and after nearly a year of living with Percy, there was still a little voice that whispered it would not last. And then Percy came out with things like this and Oliver knew they were going to be okay.

“You want to be in bed with me in forty years?” he asked intensely.

Percy shifted so he was straddling Oliver’s waist, “well maybe not _this_ bed, hopefully we might have a house instead of this flat. Maybe a dog? Also, preferably we will have more than forty years. We could be old and wrinkly, and I’d still want you, Ol. I can’t imagine ever not. As long as that is what you want too.”

Oliver felt emotion building up behind his eyes and he gently rolled Percy round so he was the one above him instead, “do you know what it does to me when you say things like that?”

“I can think of one thing,” Percy cast his eyes downward with a small smile.

Oliver leant forward with a laugh, pressing a kiss to Percy’s waiting mouth, “I meant how amazing it is to hear you say what you feel about me and know I feel the same about you.”

“Tell me more about that,” Percy probed as he unbuttoned his pyjama shirt.

“Perce, you’re exhausted, are you sure you don’t just want to sleep?”

“I love that you are asking but no, suddenly I find myself wide awake, funny that!”

“This is not how my Percy normally deals with problems such as nightmares.”

Percy shrugged as he pulled the shirt off, “it’s how your Percy wants to deal with them now. I want you to make me forget it all – all except you.”

Oliver was not a strong enough man to argue with that reasoning, especially when Percy’s lips were parted in sinfully tempting manner, his glasses slipping slightly on his nose and his hair a delightful mess. He pulled him into a scorching kiss.

* * *

The sun was overbearing as Percy relaxed in a deck chair under the trees. With a frustrated sigh, he cast another cooling charm over himself.

“You could go inside if it’s bothering you that much,” Oliver muttered from the chair next to him, lazily flicking through Quidditch Weekly.

They had popped over to the Burrow for lunch after sleeping in that morning; it had been a long time before they had eventually got to sleep.

After lunch, his mum had then chased them all outside whilst she made dessert. ‘All’ included Hermione and Ginny who were currently playing with Hermione’s massive ginger cat, Charlie who was also in a deck chair alongside Oliver and Ron and Harry who had started the dreaded task of degnoming the hedgerows.

Percy shook his head, “I’m happy enough out here.”

“You like spending time with them,” Oliver stated the obvious sending a smile across at him.

“I do,” Percy nodded. His mum had started insisting on him visiting at least once a week – he did this easily and was there more often than that – and with Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione all living at the Burrow, it was always busy. George came sometimes. Charlie was staying until the start of July. And Oliver was there as Percy’s guest. Only Charlie knew the truth of that matter … for now.

“Wood!” called Harry suddenly breaking Percy’s thoughts.

“How many times will I have to tell him to call me Oliver?”

“A few more,” Percy chuckled.

Oliver rolled his eyes, “Potter!” he called in response as Harry approached.

“You _can_ call me Harry,” came the reply. Charlie snorted in amusement at the irony.

“And vice-versa! What can I do for you anyway?”

“Ron was thinking of three-a-side Quidditch, you in?” Harry asked enthusiastically.

Percy looked over the top of his glasses, “does this invite extend to me?”

Harry looked awkwardly back at him, “err…”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Percy muttered returning to his book causing Oliver and Charlie to laugh.

Harry grinned, “we’re just playing with a Quaffle so a keeper, two chasers on each team.”

“How are we splitting?” asked Oliver, immediately in tactician mode.

Harry considered, “you and Ron both play keeper so opposite teams. Hermione is the weakest link and you’re a professional so she can go with you. Take your pick from the rest of us.”

Percy watched with amusement as Oliver glanced between Harry and Charlie. It was clear he didn’t consider Ginny an option – from what Percy had heard, this was a mistake.

“Charlie,” Oliver finally said. “He plays Chaser fairly well.”

Harry shrugged, although Percy could see he was faintly smug, “fine, Ginny can go with Ron and me.”

“You’re on.”

Sometime later, Percy had given up on his book and was watching the match from the ground. They were fairly evenly matched, although even he was impressed by Ginny who had easily scored against Oliver more than once.

A sudden crack caught Percy’s attention and he turned to see George at the gate. George watched the Quidditch match for a moment with a look of deep despair before stalking towards the house. Percy at once got up and followed him.

“George!”

He turned and looked at Percy, his eyes watery, “every day I get up and think there can’t be any more firsts without him. I hadn’t even considered Quidditch. I’ve never played without him, not even once.”

Percy felt his heart break a little more.

“It’s what I am doomed for,” he said sadly. “A long life of realising that he’s never going to do anything with me ever again.”

“It might get easier,” Percy tried, although he himself often doubted it. “We don’t know what life will throw at us.”

George nodded sadly, “no, we don’t.”

“Oliver is constantly reminding me that we have to try and be happy. Even if it’s hard. Fred would want to be alive, I know, but since he’s not … I know he would want you to try and find happiness.”

“I suppose I might one day.”

“Seems a long way off, doesn’t it?” Percy sighed.

“Yeah, it really does.”

They stood in silence looking up at the Quidditch players for a minute.

“I don’t know if I ever said Perce, maybe I just thought you knew or maybe because I hate being sentimental,” George said quietly. “But I am grateful every day that wall didn’t crush you too.”

Percy felt like he had been sucker-punched, “George…”

“I was talking to Ron and he said he feels guilty about it. I told him to wise up. I could have lost all three of you and that would be even worse. Just wanted you to know that if you feel that way too – stop being a prat. I'm grateful I still have four brothers.”

Percy said nothing, he just wrapped his younger brother in a tight hug; somehow this was exactly what he had needed to hear for weeks and from the exact person it needed to come from.

“Okay, okay,” George fidgeted, “leave some air for mum to squeeze out of me too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's called healing and I love to see it!


	12. The Burrow, August 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just want to say a big thank you for all your comments and kudos on the last chapter - it really motivates me to get new chapters out and I love you all :)
> 
> Chapter summary: Percy and Oliver share their relationship with the Weasleys. There will be no homophobia because I do not have the strength to put Percy Weasley through any more angst that he doesn't deserve. Also I genuinely don't believe these characters would be homophobic.
> 
> Sidenote: Charlie is back again due to popular demand

* * *

_August 1998_

“Percy, are you coming over on Tuesday?” his mum asked from the other side of the kitchen. She was overseeing a variety of knives chopping the vegetables for dinner whilst Percy sorted through the ironing for her.

Percy nodded, “yes, I was planning on bringing Oliver again if that’s okay.”

“Of course, such a lovely boy Oliver is, he’s welcome anytime.”

“He’ll appreciate that,” Percy smiled.

They still hadn’t told the Weasleys – except Charlie – about the true nature of their relationship. After the battle and the subsequent plethora of funerals, not to mention the enterally crushing feeling when Fred was mentioned or thought about, Percy hadn’t been sure when the right time was to drop the bombshell on them that he was in love with a man.

It wasn’t that they were purposely hiding it and he wasn’t overly worried about them being homophobic – it was more the fact that he had still been working out how he fitted back into the family and they were all learning to cope without Fred. Rocking the boat with Oliver seemed like the wrong thing to do somehow.

Percy glanced across the kitchen into the living room where Harry and Ginny were curled up together on the sofa, whispering quietly to each other in a manner which reminded Percy immensely of himself and Oliver. Fleur fitted so seamlessly into the fabric of the Weasley family (although Bill had told him it was not always like this) and Harry and Hermione had basically already been members of the family for years before dating Ginny and Ron. Why shouldn’t Oliver be as easily accepted? Apart from Ginny, all of Percy’s siblings knew him pretty well from Hogwarts and since he had visited over the past few months their parents got on very well with him. He already knew that Charlie was happy for them after all.

Oliver himself still had some reservations about how they had treated Percy in years gone by but had forgiven them when he knew Percy was at peace with them again. Oliver was also happy to take things at Percy’s pace and let him judge when it was best to tell the family.

But maybe it had been long enough.

“Who else is coming?”

“Hmm? Oh, Ron and Hermione will be here of course, but I think Harry said he was taking Ginny out. George will probably come if it’s just a small crowd of us.”

Percy nodded; George had been present – physically at least – at a few gatherings over the last few months but never if the whole family was there. Percy could understand why; the missing gap tore his own heart to pieces and it was most obvious when they were all together.

“I’ll drop by with George, say it would be good to see him,” Percy offered.

His mum sent a relieved look, “Oh would you dear, thank you!”

Percy nodded and made two resolutions – he would get George to dinner and he would tell them about Oliver.

* * *

“Charlie?”

Percy looked up out of the fire and saw his brother approach.

“Perce! What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to chat, can I come through?”

Charlie nodded and a minute later, Percy was standing it his brother’s Romanian home. It occurred to him that he had never been here before.

“Are you settling back in alright?”

Charlie grinned, “what can I say, I missed my children.”

“You mean the bloodthirsty creatures who could kill you if you make a wrong move?”

“Not if you’re careful,” Charlie waved a hand dismissively as he grabbed two mugs of tea and herded Percy over to the kitchen table. “Now, why have you really come all the way to Romania?”

Percy sighed; he was more transparent than he thought.

“Oliver and I are going to tell Mum and Dad – and everyone else – about our relationship,” he explained.

Charlie smiled, “good for you!”

Percy nodded as he took a sip of his tea.

“Does this mean I can ask about you two now?” Charlie said with a glint in his eye.

“Of course. I was never trying to hide Oliver. Just the way you found out … it wasn’t the time or the place,” Percy explained.

Charlie nodded understandingly, “totally get that. So, how long have you been together?”

“Since last June, it’s a year this month since he moved in with me. That happened after the Ministry fell. We figured it was safer and honestly, it was the best decision I’ve made in years,” said Percy. “I was in a really bad place for months before we got together and he came along at the exact right time.”

“I am sorry about … _that_ ,” offered Charlie.

Percy shook his head, “you have nothing to apologize for. There was fault on both sides of what happened with me and Dad. I am just grateful it is in the past now.”

“I should’ve reached out to you though. You said you weren’t in a good place.”

“Can you blame me? But honestly, Charlie. It’s okay… we drifted after you moved out here and I barely wrote to you even before Dad and I fell out. Life happens,” he shrugged.

Charlie nodded, “at least we’re good now.”

Percy agreed, “yes. Yes, we are.”

“So, there is one thing I want to know though,” Charlie added. “Will you be able to get me family discount on Quidditch League tickets now you’re dating the Keeper of Puddlemere United?”

Percy snorted, “aren’t you a Wasps fan?”

“Aren’t you meant to hate Quidditch?” teased Charlie.

“You know that is false information that has been spread due to the fact I hate flying. Contrary to popular belief, I actually enjoy watching it,” said Percy with a shrug.

“Or maybe you just like watching your boyfriend,” suggested Charlie.

Percy sent him a sardonic look but was secretly pleased that they were on the level of good-natured teasing, “I take it you won’t want a ticket to the Puddlemere vs the Wasps game next month then?”

Charlie shook his head quickly, “no, no, I am definitely free and available to attend!”

“I’ll get Oliver to send you a ticket,” Percy assured him with a laugh.

“I can tell he makes you happy, Perce,” Charlie said after a moment, much more seriously. “Mum and Dad will see it too. You don’t have to worry … although if anyone says anything, just give me a shout.”

Percy smiled; he was now used to having Oliver in his corner but the fact that his brother was being so supportive meant more to him than he could put into words.

* * *

A couple of days later, after Percy had dropped round to George’s flat and persuaded him that it would only be a small group at lunch, Percy was standing in the porch of the Burrow resolutely.

“Are you sure?” Oliver checked, playing with Percy’s left hand with both of his own.

Percy nodded, “it makes no sense that they don’t know – sorry if this is too much but you’re it for me, Ol. I don’t want to hide that from them, you’re as much my family as they are.”

Oliver’s hand snaked quickly up and pulled Percy’s face towards his own, giving him a searing kiss which left them both breathless, “I’m so in love with you, Weasley.”

“The feeling is very much mutual,” Percy returned pressing another gentler kiss to Oliver’s lips. “Now, let’s tell the rest of them.”

Oliver pushed the door of the Burrow open and led Percy inside. The kitchen was a little busy as Molly directed them to seats in the living room.

“Mum, could you leave the dinner a minute?” Percy asked. “There’s something I need to tell everyone.”

“Of course, dear,” she replied although she sent a worried glance to the saucepans.

The living room was being warmed by the open fire and Ron and their dad were playing a game of chess on a small coffee table between two of the sofas. Hermione was curled up next to Ron reading the _Quibbler_ and George was sitting in the armchair nearest the fire looking a little vacant. Molly went to stand beside him, giving him a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

“Hey Perce, Oliver,” he nodded at each of them, causing the other occupants to send similar greetings in their direction.

“Percy has something he wants to tell us,” their mother said quickly. Hemione set her magazine down and smiled encouragingly at them both in a way that made Percy feel it was futile to think she didn’t already know what was going to be said.

“Knight to B3,” Ron directed, paying them no mind.

“ _Ron_ ,” their dad said. “Let’s leave the strategizing a minute, your brother wants to say something.”

Five pairs of eyes now stared at the pair in the doorway expectantly. Oliver reached out and took Percy’s hand, under the cover of their robes.

Percy took a deep breath, “We are together.”

The room was silent for a long moment.

Oliver squeezed Percy’s hand. The silence needed filling, so Percy quickly expanded, “As in living together. And in a relationship together. A romantic one, that is. Oliver and I are romantically involved. Together.”

He berated himself for how tongue-tied that had sounded and quickly glanced at Oliver who sent him a reassuring smile.

In a turn of events which shocked everyone else further into silence, it was George who reacted first, getting up and walking around the chess set before hugging them both tightly.

“This is honestly the best news I’ve heard in months,” he said, smiling slightly when he pulled away.

“Really?” Percy asked hopefully.

George nodded and the ghost of a playful smirk danced across his face, “always wanted a national Quidditch star in the family.”

Oliver groaned but Percy felt his own smile grow even wider; if George is willing to make a light-hearted joke, it was all the acceptance he needed from him.

“You could’ve gone professional, yourself,” Oliver replied and he was also grinning widely.

George shrugged, “nah, better to leave that to the diehards who don’t mind waking up at dawn.”

“So, wait … you’re gay, Percy?” interrupted a perplexed Ron, waving a disgruntled pawn at Percy. “And so are you?” the pawn redirected to Oliver.

“Don’t be so tactless,” hissed Hermione giving him a light smack on the arm, before turning to Percy and Oliver. "It's great you are able to share this with us."

“I’m not trying to be tactless! Sorry Percy, I’m just getting my head round this information – ‘course I’m happy for you – for you both! Like really I am,” Ron quickly added, “just didn’t see it coming, that’s all!”

Hermione looked stuck between disbelief and fond approval, muttering something about ‘not paying attention’.

Percy shook his head, “thank you, Hermione. It's fine Ron, I know it's a surprise to you but I'm glad you're happy for me. And, er ... to answer your question, Oliver is gay but I’m not … exactly. I’m into blokes and girls a little bit. But mostly I’m just into Oliver.”

He felt himself go a little red at how publicly romantic that was and glanced at his boyfriend to see Oliver was beaming at him.

“Oh Perce,” squealed his mum finally, jumping up and wrapping him in a hug. “This is such a wonderful development! You’re so happy! Thank you for telling us!”

She let go and turned to Oliver, giving him an equally bone-crushing hug, “Welcome to the family, dear. Officially, that is, you’ve been round for lunch long enough to be getting a Christmas jumper either way!”

Percy glanced at his dad who hadn’t moved from his chair but was smiling softly across the room, Percy let go of Oliver and walked over to him whilst George and Ron engaged Oliver in some light teasing.

“Are you okay with this, Dad?” He wasn’t exactly looking approval – at this point, he didn’t need it. It would be good to know his dad was accepting of him though.

Arthur nodded, “you’re happy Percy – that’s all I want for all my children. You know that I am sorry that I haven’t always led you to believe that. But I have seen how Oliver and you get on over the last few months. He’s good for you.”

Percy smiled; out of everyone, his dad had been hardest to reconnect with – the amount of times they had ignored each other in the Ministry had taken its toll. “Thank you, Dad, that means a lot to me.”

Arthur gave him a small pat on the back before apparently changing his mind and pulling Percy into a hug. Percy wasn’t sure what to do with his arms for a moment but finally returned the hug, catching Oliver’s eye over his dad’s shoulder. Oliver smiled. Percy beamed back at him; Oliver had been right when he had once said things would get better again.

“Now, dinner!” Molly clapped her hands and they all followed her into the kitchen.

“So, how long exactly have you been together?” Hermione asked Percy as she sat next to him.

George raised an eyebrow, “wait, this isn’t just a recent development over the summer?”

Hermione gave a long-suffering sigh. Percy shared a knowing look with her; out of all his siblings’ friends, he had always found Hermione to be a bit of a kindred spirit when it came to knowing and observing things.

Oliver chuckled, “No, Perce and me were a long time coming.”

George looked positively gleeful at Oliver’s phrasing but caught his mother’s narrowed eye and her hissed, “ _don’t!”_

Ron chuckled and then caught the redirected glare of their mother and tucked into his meal.

“It was actually after Christmas last year,” Percy mumbled quietly but everyone turned to look at him, clearly not sure how to react to _that_ Christmas being brought up. “Oliver was a great friend to me when I needed one and then by June, we were together. It wasn’t till after the Ministry fell, that Ol moved in – I know that seems sudden but we’ve both been … er … dancing around each other since Hogwarts.”

“Thank you, Oliver,” Arthur spoke up, firmly. “For being there for Percy when we … weren’t on the best terms.” He swallowed and continued, “it does me good to know that Percy was not alone during the horror of last year.”

Percy looked down, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation but also glad to hear his father’s words.

Oliver could clearly sense this for he simply said, “thanks Mr Weasley.”

Molly tutted as she passed a bowl of carrots around, “none of that Oliver, you can call us Molly and Arthur. It has been hard enough getting Hermione and Harry out of that habit. We’re family.”

Percy beamed; the casual linking of Oliver with Harry and Hermione demonstrated just how accepting and on board his mother was with his relationship.

“Thanks Molly,” Oliver said. “We’re glad you’re happy for us.”

“Of course I am, dear,” she smiled. “Have you told anyone else yet?”

Percy nodded, “Charlie knows so I suppose we just need to tell Ginny and Bill.”

The conversation flowed easily across the lunch table as it had for the last few months; amazingly nothing had changed except for the smiles and knowing looks that kept being sent his and Oliver’s way.

* * *

Later, as Oliver lay in Percy’s arms in their bed at home, he whispered, “that went well today.”

“Better than I could have imagined. I didn’t think it would go badly but there was an inkling in the back of my mind that the worst would happen. Is that bad?”

Oliver shook his head, “sadly, the norm is to assume the worst. I remember being terrified when I was sixteen, telling my parents.”

Percy thought back to the years when he had refused to accept his own sexuality and how much it had hurt him. He knew from columns in the _Prophet_ and news broadcasts on the Muggle radio that he and Oliver were some of the lucky ones being so easily accepted by their families. It was not something he took for granted.

“I liked what you said to Ron,” Oliver said softly.

“Hmm?”

“Put it this way – I’m mostly just into you too,” Percy could hear the firm assurance underneath the teasing tone that Oliver meant this utterly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last 'official' chapter! :(   
> I have written an epilogue though so don't panic!  
> Well actually, I have drafted two epilogues - one set 5 years later and one set 16 years later - to be honest I am considering posting them both. Watch this space...


	13. Epilogue, September 2003

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I have decided to do both epilogues because why not! This is the first one and is set five years later!

_**Epilogue:** _

_September 2003_

“Good morning, could you tell me which room Oliver Wood is staying in please?”

The receptionist gave him a very false smile, “I’m sorry, sir but that is against client confidentiality.”

“I have a letter from him,” Percy reached into his pocket pulling out the hastily written note.

_‘Come to the hotel ASAP, love Ol.’_

“How do I know that’s from Mr Wood or to you?” she asked patronisingly.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Percy protested, not liking to play this card but, “I’m the Head of Magical Transportation at the Ministry, Percy Weasley!”

She looked dissatisfied at the Ministry identification that Percy produced, “Mr Weasley – if that is your name – we have had many people claiming to be people they are not to get close to the English Quidditch Team and we take our security very seriously.”

“He’s not even _English_!” Percy cried, knowing this was a massive pet peeve of Oliver’s, “He’s on the Scottish Team!”

Percy was about to send a Patronus straight to Oliver when he saw a familiar red ponytail across reception.

“Ginny!”

The woman in question turned around and grinned, “Percy! What are you doing here?”

The receptionist quickly stepped in, “I’m so sorry Mrs Potter, I was just calling security to escort this man out.”

Ginny sent a glare at the woman which would have made Percy quake, “What makes you think that would be necessary?”

“He is a delusional fan trying to access Mr Wood. He is claiming to be a Weasley.”

Ginny twirled her wand threateningly around her fingers, “this _delusional fan_ is in fact my brother, madam. Not only that but I would assume he is here to see Mr Wood because he is his partner, not just his fan. If you check the security clearance list, I am sure you will find his name on there.”

The receptionist looked mortified, “apologies Mrs Potter … I did not think to check.”

“A rather large oversight,” Ginny tilted her head. “Don’t you think?”

“It’s fine,” Percy said placatingly, “all I want is to know where Oliver is.”

Ginny glared at the woman again before tugging Percy’s elbow, “c’mon, I’ll show you.”

“I thought you were going to hex her,” Percy raised a reproachful eye at his sister as they walked upstairs.

“They let Harry in here no question but Merlin forbid, they extend the same rights to a same-sex couple. I’ve hexed someone before and I’ll do it again,” Ginny returned.

Percy recalled the incident at Ron and Hermione’s wedding when a Weasley cousin had made a homophobic comment directed at Percy; he could’ve dealt with it himself but there was something extremely satisfying about watching Ginny cast a Bat-Bogey Hex.

“I appreciate you defending my honour, but I think in this case, it was just an overprotective receptionist,” Percy said. “Besides, I think Harry is a little bit more recognisable than me.”

Ginny shrugged, “if you say so. Here we are, Oliver awaits,” she finished with a flourish towards a door.

“Thanks, Gin, see you later,” he smiled before rapping on the door.

Oliver answered, promptly pulling Percy inside with a quick hello to Ginny.

“Well, how has training camp been going?” Percy asked; Oliver had been away for over a week at the annual Great British training camp in which Scotland, England and Wales all trained and then played a few friendly games. “And more importantly, what is this letter about?”

“Firstly, training camp is going superbly. I do have a minor gripe about why in the name of Merlin did no one think to mention your sister could play Quidditch whilst I was at school?”

Percy laughed gently, “I think Angelina and Alicia may have had something to say if you proposed replacing one of them with a second year.”

Oliver looked resigned, “still…”

“And secondly?” Percy prompted, waving the note about.

Oliver positively beamed, “look what arrived this morning! I didn’t want to open it without you.”

He held out a think parchment envelope which Percy took with shaking hands once he recognised the seal on the back.

“Ol,” he whispered, feeling his voice catch. “You know I love you and your enthusiasm for Quidditch but why did this come second to praising Ginny’s abilities?”

Oliver looked sheepish, “I guess I’m just scared that it’s not going to be the answer we want.”

Percy glanced up at his boyfriend, after six years of dating and over fifteen years of knowing him, he was well attuned to the nuances of Oliver’s expressions. Whilst his face held a small smile, his eyes were full of a wary hopefulness that Percy felt deep within himself. This envelope would direct the course of their lives and Percy was too afraid to consider one of the potential outcomes.

“Together, then?” he whispered.

Oliver nodded and came to stand over Percy’s shoulder as Percy slid a finger under the wax seal and pulled out a short letter.

_Dear Mr Wood and Mr Weasley,_

_I am pleased to inform you that all the necessary checks have been completed and you have been approved as appropriate legal guardians for a wizarding child, having met all of the statutory guidance on domestic wizarding adoption within the 2002 amendment._

_As you are aware, it can take some time to place a child with potential parents. However, as you also already know, we currently have a two-month-old, female child who has bonded well with both of you. If you still wish to proceed with the adoption of said child, please send an owl today and attend the Wizengamot on Friday at 10am when we will be holding a session of Familial Liaisons Court._

_Should you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact myself or a member of the department._

_Kind regards,  
Saoirse Edgecombe  
Head of the Advisory Committee for Familial Liaisons   
Ministry of Magic_

If Oliver hadn’t been so close behind him, Percy felt he may have collapsed with relief.

“Perce, tell me I am not misinterpreting this?”

Oliver’s voice was full of pent-up emotion. Percy himself didn’t know he could feel so much.

“We get to keep her,” he said breathlessly.

“I can’t believe it!”

Percy spun around, grasping Oliver’s jaw in both his hands and staring deeply into his eyes.

“Yes, we get to bring her home.”

“And raise her?”

“Yes!”

“And we can finally name her!”

“Yes!”

Oliver let out a squeal of delight – that Percy was sure he had never heard before, not even when Oliver had been selected for the World Cup – and grabbed Percy round the waist before spinning him around the hotel room.

“Put me down!” Percy said with a smile as he gripped Oliver’s shoulders.

Oliver grinned, “my heart feels like it’ll burst!”

Percy could relate – the last year had been a whirlwind since the Wizengamot had finally passed an amendment allowing same-sex couples to adopt. His sister-in-law, Hermione had appeared at their doorstep early one morning, “it passed – I had to tell you straight away!” Percy had always held a soft spot for Hermione back at school and to see her using her wonderful brain and talents to fight for equal rights for all wizards, witches and magical creatures in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was a sight to behold. Oliver and he had immediately started filling in all the necessary paperwork and making their home more suitable for a baby or child. Then in early July, they had been in the Familial Liaisons Office for one of their final interviews when Mrs Edgecombe had arrived late with a small bundle in her arms.

_“Mr Weasley, Mr Wood, apologies for my lack of punctuality – we have just had a baby left in the reception. Do you mind if I keep her with me, during the meeting? I know it’s unprofessional, but we’ve just got her to sleep.”_

_Percy and Oliver had both vehemently agreed and they began the interview. However, it wasn’t long before the little girl woke up with a squeal._

_Mrs Edgecombe had looked at them appraisingly, “how do you feel about practical experience?”_

_“It is essential to all learning processes, you can only learn so much from theory,” Percy had replied._

_She just nodded and passed the baby into a surprised Oliver’s arms, “Mr Weasley, let me show you how to make a bottle of formula.”_

They had been instantly smitten, if not a bit nervous, and had been visiting the little girl ever since; each of them dreading the possibility that they might not actually get to keep her as their own.

Percy tried to find the words to respond to Oliver but found he was tearing up.

Oliver just beamed and pressed a long kiss to his lips, “I know, Perce.”

“Imagine telling teenage versions of ourselves that we could have this life,” Percy finally managed.

“I don’t think either of us would’ve believed it.” Oliver replied, “y’know I always wanted a Quidditch team of kids but then once I realised I was gay, I had to resign myself to not even having one kid.”

“But now we do,” Percy felt himself almost laughing, his joy was so great, “we’re going to be parents, Ol!”

“You, me and the baby,” Oliver nodded ecstatically. “And we can finally stop calling her ‘the baby’!”

Percy grinned, “speaking of, we had better tell our families. Our parents will all be free and some of my siblings might want to come – I know George said he would shut the shop for the day we finally get to go to court.”

Oliver shook his head, “why are we allowing him to be her godfather again? She’ll be in all sorts of trouble before she even gets to Hogwarts!”

Percy ran a hand through Oliver’s hair, “I wouldn’t have suggested it unless you did first. I think he’ll be good for her. And she’ll be good for him.”

“Six years ago, I wouldn’t have believed many things – the fact that we will have a daughter amongst them – but if you’d told me that we would both think that George Weasley would make a good godfather, well … I’d have said you were mad.”

“Fred would love to see it,” Percy frowned sadly.

Oliver kissed the crown of Percy’s head, “he’d think we were playing a prank on him.”

Percy chuckled softly, “yes. He would.”

“Why don’t you go to The Burrow and tell them the details for court. I’ll write back to Mrs Edgecombe and send an owl home to Glasgow too.”

“Perfect,” Percy nodded. “I’ll see you at home, love.”

* * *

Three days later the Wizengamot gathered in a rather more unruly manner than normal. Percy and Oliver sat at a table in the middle with their lawyer whilst Mrs Edgecombe sat in the judicial seat. To their left, was a sea of red hair. Percy smiled at them; he had been expecting his parents and George and hoped that maybe one or two others might come.

Instead, Charlie had flown over from Romania, Ginny had left training early and pulled Harry out of the Auror office to join them. Bill and Fleur were fussing over their two daughters – four-year-old Victoire with her sleek blonde hair and two-year-old Dominique with her red curls – who were hanging over the edge of the barrier, both terribly excited about their new cousin. Oliver’s parents were speaking animatedly to Hermione and Angelina whilst Ron sent a thumbs up to Percy. George sat at the end of the row his hands clasped in front of him, looking like he wanted to flee at any moment but staring determinedly ahead – Percy grimaced at the reminder that the last time George had sat in this room was for the Death Eater trials.

As well as family, he was delighted and surprised to see McGonagall and Madam Hooch a few rows behind. He wondered how they had heard but it was lovely to know the head of Gryffindor – headmistress now – was there to support them. Percy imagined Hooch was there because of Oliver as he couldn’t recall speaking to her since the initial first year flying lessons.

There were also a selection of their friends; a few off Oliver’s Quidditch team and Penelope who had been round to visit Percy two days earlier and was delighted to hear about the progress in their case. Percy was touched she had chosen to attend.

Oliver’s warm hand stirred Percy’s thoughts from the crowd.

“You okay?”

“All of my family came,” Percy whispered back.

Oliver nodded, “they love you.”

“They love _us_ ,” Percy corrected; he felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach that he could now say this with such confidence when for years he had doubted it.

The court was then called to order and Percy kept glancing at the door beside Mrs Edgecombe’s desk – their daughter was on the other side of it. She would be with them in no time.

“Mr Weasley, Mr Wood,” Mrs Edgecombe said. “We meet this morning to finalise the legal adoption of Baby X. This court proceeding is more of a formality. We can now pronounce you both as the legal fathers of Baby X. For our records, can you please state the name you wish to register her under.”

Oliver nodded at Percy to speak.

“Molly Olivia Wood.”

Percy heard a loud gasp from his left and glanced over in time to see his mother burst into tears whilst his father beamed at him.

“Weasley.”

Percy turned at the sound of Oliver’s voice, “what?”

“C’mon she’s got red hair, she’s got to be a wee Weasley.”

Percy didn’t know how to voice in front of the gathered crowd his confusion. How had they managed to get this far without discussing Molly’s surname? He had just assumed it would be Oliver’s. He didn’t exactly know why – it just felt right.

“I thought we decided on Wood.”

“Did we?” Oliver sent him a perplexed look.

“Gentlemen,” Mrs Edgecombe sounded amused, “you do have the option of double barrelling Molly’s surname if you wish.”

Percy shared a glance with Oliver.

“She makes a good point, love, Weasley-Wood – the best of both of us,” Oliver whispered. Percy found himself nodding, the sound of their names together on Oliver’s tongue sounded … right.

“Molly Olivia Weasley-Wood, your honour,” Percy spoke up.

Mrs Edgecombe projected her voice, “The Wizengamot recognise Mr Percival Weasley and Mr Oliver Wood as the legal parents of Miss Molly Weasley-Wood from this day forward. This can no longer be contested. Congratulations to your family. Court dismissed.” She banged a small hammer and the door to the side opened and her assistant carried in the squirming bundle that was their daughter.

Neither of them waited to be told and were pulling her into their arms immediately.

“Hi there, Molly darling,” Oliver cooed as she swung a small fist around before using it to grab his finger.

“You’re perfect,” Percy smiled down at her, careful not to let her reach his glasses – it hadn’t taken them long to realise that Molly loved glasses and throwing glasses

“She’s ours, Percy,” Oliver said in awe as they both stared lovingly at her little face. “No one can take her away anymore.”

Percy passed Molly to his partner so he could get a chance to hold him – and just in time as a loud squeal came from behind them.

“Oh _Percy_!” he was suddenly ambushed from the side as his mum pulled him into a massive hug. “You named her after me?”

Percy could feel that his mum was still crying and carefully pulled out of the hug so he could look her in the eyes, “we wanted it to be a surprise.”

Oliver nodded, “do you want to meet your granddaughter, Molly?”

“Boys, you two really know how to make me cry!” she said, doing just that as she smiled wetly down at her third grandchild. “Hello little Molly, I’m your Granny.”

* * *

Hours later, after many introductions, hugs, photos and a massive meal at the Burrow, Oliver and Percy Flooed home with Molly tightly secured in Percy’s arms. They had saved up and finally bought a house in the Scottish countryside, rather than their apartment in London, two years before and finally they had another little person to share it with.

Oliver turned to him with an undecipherable look on his face, “we’re a family, Percy and we were even before today. You and me – we were a family. And now the three of us are a family.”

“I know, Ol,” Percy smiled, rocking Molly gently before looking up at Oliver.

“I want you to know though … that I know it’s not legal … but … well, I consider you … you’re my husband, Percy. You’re my husband in everything but name, Perce.”

Percy clutched a sleeping Molly close to his chest and used his other arm to pull Oliver in for a scorching kiss, the joy he felt as they stood there with the two people who he loved most in the world didn’t compare to anything.

“And you are mine, Oliver,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I cry whilst writing this ending? Perhaps I did!
> 
> There will be another epilogue set about 10 years later!
> 
> LGBT history in the UK --> same-sex couples have been able to adopt since 2002 (although it was 2009 I think before it was legal in Scotland). I merged this with the Wizarding World. Also I do not claim that this is in any way reflective of the actual adoption system - unfortunately it can take months and years before some couples can adopt.


End file.
